I hope you find this as funny as I did. Regards, Dale Mentzer ------- Forwarded Message Follows ------- > >You know you're addicted to the internet when . . . > > >Your bookmark takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom. > >Your eyeglasses have a web site burned in on them. > >You find yourself brainstorming for new subjects to search. > >You refuse to go to a vacation spot with no electricity and no phone lines. > >You finally do take that vacation, but only after buying a cellular modem >and a laptop. > >You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your lap...and your >child in the overhead compartment. > >All your daydreaming is preoccupied with getting a faster connection to the >net: 56K...ISDN...cable modem...T1...T3. > >And even your night dreams are in HTML. > >You find yourself typing "com" after every period when using a word >processor.com > >You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just >pulled the plug on a loved one. > >You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading. > >You start introducing yourself as "Jim at I-I-Net dot net dot au > >Your heart races faster and beats irregularly each time you see a new WWW >site address in print or on TV, even though you've never had heart problems >before. > >You step out of your room and realize that your parents have moved and you >don't have a clue when it happened. > >You turn on your intercom when leaving the room so you can hear if new >e-mail arrives. > >Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of what she >looks like. > >All of your friends have an @ in their names. > >When looking at a pageful of someone else's links, you notice all of them >are already highlighted in purple. > >Your dog has its own home page. > >You've already visited all the links at Yahoo and you're halfway through >Lycos. > >You can't call your mother...she doesn't have a modem. > >You realize there is not a sound in the house and you have no idea where >your children are. > >You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it again. > >You refer to your age as 3.x. > >You have comandeered your teenager's phone line for the net and even his >friends know not to call on his line anymore. > >Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box. > >Even though you died last week, you've managed to retain OPS on your >favorite IRC channel. > >You code your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL. > >You don't know the sex of three of your closest friends, because they have >neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask. > >You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom. > >You laugh at people with 28,800 baud modems. > >Your husband tells you he's had the beard for 2 months. > >You miss more than five meals a week downloading the latest games from >Apogee. > >You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms. > >You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop and check your e-mail >on the way back to bed. > >You move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape. > >You tell the cab driver you live at >http://123.elm.street/house/bluetrim.html > >You actually try that 123.elm.street address. > >You tell the kids they can't use the computer because "Daddy's got work to >do" and you don't even have a job. > >Your friends no longer send you e-mail...they just log on to your IRC >channel. > >You buy a Captain Kirk chair with a built-in keyboard and mouse. > >Your wife makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed." > >You are so familiar with the WWW that you find the search engines useless. > >You get a tatoo that says "This body best viewed with Netscape 3.1 or >higher." > >You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP...because you >never log off. > >The last girl you picked up was only a jpeg. > >You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of >your computer with a toilet. > >You forget what year it is. > >You start tilting your head sideways to smile. > >You ask your doctor to implant a gig in your brain. > >You leave the modem speaker on after connecting because you think it sounds >like the ocean wind...the perfect soundtrack for "surfing the net". > >You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call >200 hours per month "unlimited." > >You turn on your computer and turn off your wife. > >Your wife says communication is important in a marriage...so you buy another >computer and install a second phone line so the two of you can chat. > >As your car crashes through the guardrail on a mountain road, your first >instinct is to search for the "back" button. > It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere This mail written by a user of Arachne, the DOS Internet Client WWWWW World Wide Web Without Windows http://home.arachne.cz Arachne DOS Browser Home Page To unsubscribe from SURVPC send a message to [EMAIL PROTECTED] with unsubscribe SURVPC in the body of the message. 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