You see psychedelic flowers when you close your eyes to go to sleep. Before you have a conversation with someone, you kindly ask them if they’d like to accept a chat request. You consider sleeping your “N/A” mode. You hear little voices in your head constantly saying “uh-oh”. You have over 500 buddies on your contact list. You’ve had long conversations with all 500 of those buddies. You begin to think names like “Tom” and “Jane” are strange, but names like “Snakeman” and “Tigger” are common. Your friend introduces you to a new person, and you immediately ask them if you can add them to your “contact list”. Since downloading ICQ, you’ve learned to speak 7 new languages, including Ukranian and the dialect of a small native community in Peru. To you, ICQ isn’t just a program, it’s a “gift to mankind”. Your idea of a “wild time” is inviting all of your online friends into one giant chatroom. The last time you signed off ICQ was during the George Bush administration. Every time a new version or update of ICQ is released, you have your own celebration party, complete with cake, party favors, and champagne. Your dog leaves you due to lack of attention, despite your efforts to appease him by giving him his own ICQ number. Your one pride in life has become your immense contact list, and you ask all your friends to send over their contacts to make it even bigger. You name your first child “Mirabilis” and tell all your friends that it was because you “liked how it sounded”. You have carefully allotted your time during work/school lunch breaks: 32 minutes to check and respond to ICQ messages, 3 minutes to eat. Your spouse is insanely jealous of the computer and refers to it only as your “sugar daddy”.