Spruence M
09-30-07, 05:15 PM
You know you've been playing SH3 too much when...
You think about doing the wiggle wobble maneuver after a police officer turns on his lights.
You stop and make very sure that no one is near enough to hear you before drinking your coffee.
Sitting at the doctor’s office wishing you could go up to 256x TC.
You're boat is badly injured but decide to bear with it because reloading the game would take too long.
You stand stupidly in front of a radio waiting for BdU to respond.
You expect even the smallest object to throw interesting and sharply defined reflections.
You wonder what degree setting to use when lauching a salvo of darts.
It’s safe to assume only AI U-boats can survive the battle when your girlfriend starts talking about feelings.
Real water seems far too translucent and just doesn't ripple realistically.
You calculate AOB on any unknowing automobile on the highway.
You first son’s middle name is Kaluen.
You sit at red lights waiting for the “Ahead Standard” call.
You believe you understand torpedo physics but don't really care.
You always try to keep your enemies in front of you and at a range of 500 meters.
You expect some german guy to scream, “Compartment taking water” when you get in the shower.
You destroy anything English by sheer force of habit.
You think about what a cool looking emblem the box of “Strike anywhere matches” would make.
After a long day at work you think about switching back to your desiel engines.
Commanding your automobile to dive when it begins to rain.
When your crew inform you that there has been an aircraft spotted you look up.
Life's sound track seems dull and uninteresting.
Your relationships suffer because you forget you cannot spend 30 days at sea after returning home from work.
You expect air bubbles when you drop a pen into a sink full of water.
Fear of shore batteries prevents you from going fishing.
Fear of what might happen prevents you from making a direct approach to friends at the bar.
…
You expect to hear ASDIC while in any dark hallway.
You don't even bother trying to stop yourself when “Educating” someone in history.
Anything but Rum, Beer, Whiskey, Scotch, Vodka and Wine is useful only for U-Boat special cocktails.
You know how to pronounce “Snorkel” in proper German.
Standing on “Bridge” of your car seems normal.
You expect to lose control of your body to a depth charge at any moment.
Real snow just doesn't sound realistically enough.
You try to evade or destroy any nearby sound contacts.
You figure a trip to port can fix anything.
The louder something is, the more it excites you.
You know you understand Torpedo Physics and still don't really care.
The sound of popping glass causes you to spin about wildly looking for proper damage reports.
..
Posts containing names like "Lehman" and "Racerboy" draw extreame attention.
Carrying thousands of pounds of oil fuel, 16 700lb torpedo warheads, 105 88mm high explosive shells and a number of other miscellaneous objects seems a bit too limiting.
Carrying twice all that gear seems perfectly reasonable.
...
You try to find every opportunity to get back on patrol.
You immediately pocket any intelligence reports you find.
You think you can go anwhere because your fuel gage is still full.
None of the "textures" in your neighborhood look right.
You eat only meat, lemons and condesed milk.
…
You expect to be “invisible” while walking slow.
You religiously avoid anthing exclusively the color red.
You nickname your most difficult son Fletcher.
You don’t know what you look like in the mirror.
You confuse “Groundhog day” with “Incoming Hedgehog”
When the ground starts shaking, an earthquake is the farthest thing from your mind.
You run immediately towards any blue dots you see and try to dock with them.
Getting shot at concerns you only because they could damage your pressure hull.
What excites you most about a woman is that she knows what an underseaboot is.
You use red lights in your computer room.
When someone just stands and stares at you, your first reaction is to put a shot across their bow.
You are oddly more respectfull than others your age when walking near graveyards.
You wonder if you are going to survive to 45.
The sound of engines sets you to an immediate dive.
You live with the constant fear that enormous, heavily-armored escorts may suddenly appear next to the blonde at the bar.
You always look down to check depth for when entering an unfamiliar area.
You open all the doors in your house before actually using one.
You grant concrete structures a very wide berth.
You aren't a programmer by trade but find the .tga language fascinating nevertheless.
You always consider before hand what to set the depth of your conversations too.
You're sure that the solution to all of life's problems somehow involves a submarine.
You begin to think that all the fishing vessels near your home need Re-Skinned.
You have a higher understanding of why things happen today than others in your age group.
Improving your fuel consumption is one of life's most basic priorities.
You expect to be able to dive in just about any tough situation.
An island just isn't an island without a Catalina circling it.
You understand the background story.
You stop hunting for single merchants because it's too easy.
You wonder whether you are the “King of Tonnage” or merely a miserable thief, knocking some BRTs here and there.
Your to-do list includes items such as "Sink HMS Hood", "Intercept ONS--5" and "Banish Benard to the Abyss".
What you fear more than anything else in the world can be summed up in two words: Black Swans.
You consider living to 45 entirely satisfying.
You could have written Silent Hunter IV in the time you've spent waiting for games to load.
You consider the GWX Mod the most important invention of this decade.
Your soul seems like a fair price for better multi-player support.
You interpret saving your game as a sign of weakness.
You think u-boat special cocktails are normal and taste perfectly good.
You consider learning German just to be able to understand the crew's comments.
You spend time reading lists of indicators that you've been playing SH3 too much.
You begin to think hair on your pork is normal.
You think about doing the wiggle wobble maneuver after a police officer turns on his lights.
You stop and make very sure that no one is near enough to hear you before drinking your coffee.
Sitting at the doctor’s office wishing you could go up to 256x TC.
You're boat is badly injured but decide to bear with it because reloading the game would take too long.
You stand stupidly in front of a radio waiting for BdU to respond.
You expect even the smallest object to throw interesting and sharply defined reflections.
You wonder what degree setting to use when lauching a salvo of darts.
It’s safe to assume only AI U-boats can survive the battle when your girlfriend starts talking about feelings.
Real water seems far too translucent and just doesn't ripple realistically.
You calculate AOB on any unknowing automobile on the highway.
You first son’s middle name is Kaluen.
You sit at red lights waiting for the “Ahead Standard” call.
You believe you understand torpedo physics but don't really care.
You always try to keep your enemies in front of you and at a range of 500 meters.
You expect some german guy to scream, “Compartment taking water” when you get in the shower.
You destroy anything English by sheer force of habit.
You think about what a cool looking emblem the box of “Strike anywhere matches” would make.
After a long day at work you think about switching back to your desiel engines.
Commanding your automobile to dive when it begins to rain.
When your crew inform you that there has been an aircraft spotted you look up.
Life's sound track seems dull and uninteresting.
Your relationships suffer because you forget you cannot spend 30 days at sea after returning home from work.
You expect air bubbles when you drop a pen into a sink full of water.
Fear of shore batteries prevents you from going fishing.
Fear of what might happen prevents you from making a direct approach to friends at the bar.
…
You expect to hear ASDIC while in any dark hallway.
You don't even bother trying to stop yourself when “Educating” someone in history.
Anything but Rum, Beer, Whiskey, Scotch, Vodka and Wine is useful only for U-Boat special cocktails.
You know how to pronounce “Snorkel” in proper German.
Standing on “Bridge” of your car seems normal.
You expect to lose control of your body to a depth charge at any moment.
Real snow just doesn't sound realistically enough.
You try to evade or destroy any nearby sound contacts.
You figure a trip to port can fix anything.
The louder something is, the more it excites you.
You know you understand Torpedo Physics and still don't really care.
The sound of popping glass causes you to spin about wildly looking for proper damage reports.
..
Posts containing names like "Lehman" and "Racerboy" draw extreame attention.
Carrying thousands of pounds of oil fuel, 16 700lb torpedo warheads, 105 88mm high explosive shells and a number of other miscellaneous objects seems a bit too limiting.
Carrying twice all that gear seems perfectly reasonable.
...
You try to find every opportunity to get back on patrol.
You immediately pocket any intelligence reports you find.
You think you can go anwhere because your fuel gage is still full.
None of the "textures" in your neighborhood look right.
You eat only meat, lemons and condesed milk.
…
You expect to be “invisible” while walking slow.
You religiously avoid anthing exclusively the color red.
You nickname your most difficult son Fletcher.
You don’t know what you look like in the mirror.
You confuse “Groundhog day” with “Incoming Hedgehog”
When the ground starts shaking, an earthquake is the farthest thing from your mind.
You run immediately towards any blue dots you see and try to dock with them.
Getting shot at concerns you only because they could damage your pressure hull.
What excites you most about a woman is that she knows what an underseaboot is.
You use red lights in your computer room.
When someone just stands and stares at you, your first reaction is to put a shot across their bow.
You are oddly more respectfull than others your age when walking near graveyards.
You wonder if you are going to survive to 45.
The sound of engines sets you to an immediate dive.
You live with the constant fear that enormous, heavily-armored escorts may suddenly appear next to the blonde at the bar.
You always look down to check depth for when entering an unfamiliar area.
You open all the doors in your house before actually using one.
You grant concrete structures a very wide berth.
You aren't a programmer by trade but find the .tga language fascinating nevertheless.
You always consider before hand what to set the depth of your conversations too.
You're sure that the solution to all of life's problems somehow involves a submarine.
You begin to think that all the fishing vessels near your home need Re-Skinned.
You have a higher understanding of why things happen today than others in your age group.
Improving your fuel consumption is one of life's most basic priorities.
You expect to be able to dive in just about any tough situation.
An island just isn't an island without a Catalina circling it.
You understand the background story.
You stop hunting for single merchants because it's too easy.
You wonder whether you are the “King of Tonnage” or merely a miserable thief, knocking some BRTs here and there.
Your to-do list includes items such as "Sink HMS Hood", "Intercept ONS--5" and "Banish Benard to the Abyss".
What you fear more than anything else in the world can be summed up in two words: Black Swans.
You consider living to 45 entirely satisfying.
You could have written Silent Hunter IV in the time you've spent waiting for games to load.
You consider the GWX Mod the most important invention of this decade.
Your soul seems like a fair price for better multi-player support.
You interpret saving your game as a sign of weakness.
You think u-boat special cocktails are normal and taste perfectly good.
You consider learning German just to be able to understand the crew's comments.
You spend time reading lists of indicators that you've been playing SH3 too much.
You begin to think hair on your pork is normal.