I'll Take My Time, Well Now It's Time To Go

My mom is pretty childish.
Exhibit A:
I said, "I love my cat."
She replied, "But he's my cat, they're all my cats."
I'm completely serious when I say that she has the mentality of a seven year old.
My step-dad too, he tries to beat up every guy that I talk to; he's somewhat of a delinquent in general.
We all have developmental problems, I'm sure.
Oh, anyway, I've been trying to write for a few days now, but I'm extremely brain-dead after a month of rigorous testing.
I hang out with The Crew (Satan's ex-friends), or at least what's left of them.
It's been interesting, and you hardly ever see the entire group in the same place anymore.
After they graduated the group disbanded, I'm going to use letters instead of names here.
But normally it's just M and C from the original group, though they've added more people so that it's different entirely.
Ivy always says how sad it is that there is no Crew anymore, because "we were part of it."
I guess we were in a way; she was because she was dating M, and I was because of her and Satan.
It's funny though, I was never an official part of the group.
Now I've gotten in on my own, but it's a far cry from what it used to be.
The entire Crew and whatever girl Satan was interested in at the moment would go cram into his tiny room to smoke weed.
They taught me to use a butterfly knife and we used to smoke out of Satan's red plastic bong.
When they all dropped out and he got his card The Crew split into two different groups.
Satan and a couple of other annoying people, and then M and a couple of new people; the rest of them went their own ways.
Hanging out with them would characterize pretty much all of my Sophmore year, surprisingly I don't miss it.