You know you are addicted to the Internet when...

You actually wore a blue ribbon to protest the Communications Decency Act.

You kiss your girlfriend's home page.

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: 28.8...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.

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 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 page full 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. or [C]ontinue?

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 believe nothing looks sexier than a nude illuminated only by a 17" inch svga monitor.

You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it again.

You have commandeered 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 what sex your three of your closest friends are, because they have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.

You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom.

You laugh at people with 56K 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, or [C]ontinue?

You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms.