Five years of thievin' good times.

When Grand Theft Auto III was released for the Playstation 2 in October of 2001, I had no idea what it was. My cuz-brother told us about it, and the sheer glee in his voice as he described the game put the bug in our collective gaming head to check it out. Mum went down to Toys 'R' Us and asked the woman behind the counter for a copy. She merely had to pass the test of worthiness with one question: "It's not for a minor?"

Mum once traumatized a little boy in Software, Etc. by telling him that not only does she play Tomb Raider, her mother plays it, and had I been there in Toys 'R' us that night, I probably would have started laughing at the memory of that boy's face. Had I been there, they probably wouldn't have given us the game because I act 12.

I will never be able to explain the greatness that is the Grand Theft Auto franchise beyond, "OMFG it's so cool!" but last night we started GTAIII over again for maybe the 40th time. Mum picked up a busload of prostitutes to take to the Policeman's ball, I blew up trucks, and Nan blew up Lips Forelli and then hijacked an armored car.

Life has changed quite a bit over these five years, and we've played that game in all sorts of weird places, but Mum still puts on Jah Radio as she's driving around, Nan still puts on Chatterbox, and I still put on Rise-FM and say, "I used to listen to that guy," every time DJ Andre speaks because I've hit the age where I just keep saying the same thing in the hopes it'll be interesting. Rise-FM is in fact the only station I can listen to and complete Smack Down.

People give the games a hard time, because people who can't think for themselves need an excuse to go be violent and stupid and then blame anything for their inability to tell what's real from what isn't. I'm just grateful for a video game my family plays together, no matter what else happens. It can be an irritating bastard at times, but it's also given us a lot of laughs. Nan flying CJ from GTA: San Andreas across the desert wearing a jet pack and gimp suit, carrying a dildo, for instance. Just to get a pass card for the casino heist. That's good times, my friends. Trying to get to the airport in a crap boat before the plane gets to the drug dealers, that's something else. I usually end up with that mission. I've been run over by a million FBI cars.

Five years of thievin' good times.