Happily Addicted To The Web

(To the tune of "Winter Wonderland" )

Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',
From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',
I'm happy - although
My boss let me go -
Happily addicted to the Web.

All night long, I sit clicking,
Unaware time is ticking,
There's beard on my cheek,
Same clothes for a week,
Happily addicted to the Web.

Friends come by and they will shake me saying
"Yo, man don't you know tonight's the prom?"
With a listless shrug, I mutter, "No, man;
I just discovered letterman-dot-com."

Holidays ... they are jolly,
With Bud, Mark, Tom, and Lolly,
They ask where I am,
Of course, with my RAM,
I'm happily addicted to the Web.

I don't phone, and I don't send faxes,
Don't go out, I don't pay taxes,
Who cares if someday
They drag me away?
I'm happily addicted to the Web.

TOP TEN SIGNS THAT YOU ARE "WEBBED OUT"

Ten ... Your opening line is, "So what's your home page address?"
Nine ... Your best friend is someone you've never met.
Eight ... You see a beautiful sunset, and you half expect to see ... "Enhanced for Netscape 4.1" ... on one of the clouds.
Seven ... You are overcome with disbelief, anger and finally depressed when you encounter a Web page with no links.
Six ... You feel driven to consult the "Cool Page of the Day" on your wedding day.
Five ... You are diving on a dark and rainy night when you hydroplane on a puddle, sending your car careening toward the flimsy guard rail that separates you from the precipice of a rocky cliff and certain death. You look for the "Back" button.
Four ... You visit "The Really Big Button that Doesn't Do Anything" again and again and again.
Three ... Your dog has his own Web page
Two ... So does your hamster.
And the number one, numero uno, sign that you have overdosed on the WWW:
One ... When you read a magazine, you have an irresistible urge to click on the underlined passages (stop clicking; it's not a link).

Now you return to ... Addiction Page … happily addicted.

Or return to our ... Navigator … and still in denial.