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You know you´re obsessed with bass when...

You're 16, don't have a permit, don't take drivers ed, and aren't saving up for a car, because you can't afford it.

You're telling this to the guy in the music store while playing your $750 dollar bass you brought to play through the Peavey 2x15 that you are 2 payments away from owning.
 
when you walk into macdonalds and see wenge veneer (i know!) you think it would make an awsome fingerboard
when you look at a buddys 83 mercedes you dont look at the car, you see the zebrawood paneling, (once again, i know!) and think, wow, thatd make a nice top.
i guess, that would be more like im addicted to building, oh well.
 
Slapping things including but not limited to: steering wheels, your belt buckle (probably looks rather strange), the edge of your desk.

The best part of Seinfeld is the interludes (wait thats a keyboard... no more seinfeld for me)

When people walk in on converstions about slapping, popping, fingering, picking, and tapping.

We were reading some moyivational crap about setting goals, one was about some chick who wanted to be in actor. One of the things mentioned was getting 8x10's done... sat there for a good 5 minutes to figure that one out.

All you have is an Ibanez (a 406, not that bad), but you know enough about bass to fill encyclopedias.

Everything is a rhythym, waiting for a grooving bass line.

The most developed muscle you have is either your thumb or forearm on your right arm.
 
When you can't listen to any song without singing along the bass line, sometimes in silent, sometimes by humming, sometimes by playing mouth bass guitar.

Which gives: "Doom... doom... doo-doom... dooom..."

Of course you pass for a total moron but what can you do without an amp an bass?
 
When you're packing to live with your Dad for a while and voluntarily take an amp and bass on your back as well as all your clothes and vitals through the London Underground...

My shoulders still aren't on speaking terms with me...
 
When you hit talkbass, and other bass-related Web sites several times a day at work, to the point that you feel ashamed, just as if you had visited porn sites (I mean, with nakid peopl) and think you should work more, to the point that you leave work late to make up for it.