Brain Fart - Word Glitchin'

Etymology -

The origin and historical development of a linguistic form as shown by determining its basic elements, earliest known use, and changes in form and meaning, tracing its transmission from one language to another, identifying its cognates in other languages, and reconstructing its ancestral form where possible. The branch of linguistics that deals with etymologies.

Yeh, yeh, I know some of you find this shit easy, but I've been trying to remember this word for days, and I'm not planning on forgetting it again any time soon.

Words... sniff... words are precious, dude.

Mainstream - Sign of the Times

So, I finally get my pilot's license, which means I'm allowed into the airport legitimately, and can now steal BIG planes.

So I steal me a big, jumbo-jet looking motherfucker (although I am now revising that opinion, as it was probably just a big jet passenger plane, not a 747), and start it taxiing down towards the runway. As I'm sure you know, there's a bit of an art to taking off, and unaccustomed as I am to the power of the jet, I find myself lifting off prematurely, before I've even got the plane's ass set on the runway in the right direction.

So I figure, either ditch the bastard right now, or force a lift-off and right it in the air, and I opt for lift-off.

('Cos, you know, that jet fuel can burn like a motherfucker, and I don't know if I could get clear before it went up.)

And I'm heading out over the water, climbing steady, in front of me I can see where my garage is in San Fierro (where the yay leaves from, right, but they travel on bikes, and those things go cross country). I take my plane into a steep bank towards the right, planning on heading out over the water, 'cos the last thing I want to do is hit the middle of town, where the buildings are.

Midway through the bank, I see, for the tiniest second, a big skyscraper ahead, quite a way off, but then it's gone, and I can just see the bridge and open water.

And my new fugitive status, five stars, bitch. Something (may be a jet, may be a chopper) shoots a rocket up my ass, and the plane starts to lose altitude. I'm already heading towards water, but at the last second I decide I'll ditch on the road and try and steal me one of those FBI ve-hick-els.

Course, I gat about fifteen of those G-men, but they finally take me down. A shitload of their black cars arrive on the scene, but they keep exploding and shit cos of the air-wreck's aftershocks.

All because I flew my nosecone within a hunnred miles of a skyscraper.

Later on, I've stolen a chopper. They let you jet those motherfuckers right through the city, chopping up homies and hos and crashing off buildings and shit. But they ain't no love for a jet from above. They shoot a brother down for that shit.

Man, that ain't gangsta!

Web Class - Delusions & Schizophrenia

I get the feeling this guy has been around for an age, as an internet personality, I mean, but I'd never heard of him till earlier tonight (he's the chap who's convinced that MI5 is hounding him... hopefully, my references are direct enough that if he reads this, he won't get paranoid about it... Message to man: I AM talking about you... I find your website genuinely fascinating. And disturbing.)

If nothing else, the website yet again proves that one doesn't have to be able-minded to get online, or even code HTML, but frankly, that's an insight that isn't even insightful to anyone who's spent more than five minutes playing games on the net, or trying to Google a sequence of words as seemingly innocent as "young pretty blondes" (that's a genuine, real life one, performed entirely innocently by the missus... you can have that one for free).

Anyway, I'm putting this up, mainly because I'm at work, and want to keep the link. If that's okay with you.