Where's the weed at??

I have been exposed to a completely new class of music thanks to my lovely daughter. There's a song with the lyrics "Where's the weed at? Where's the weed at? Somebody's got to know where the mother-effen weed's at". I am very impressed with the brilliant lyrical content. Over and over wondering where the weed's at. I guess this song is better than the "Hey, you're a crazy b-t-h but you f--- so good I'm on top of it When I dream I' doing you all night....". That's BuckCherry if you are interested in purchasing the cd. If I did not have a teenage daughter, I would never even imagine that songs like these existed. My type of music is much, much tamer. And no swearing. I don't censor her music, but I am certainly wondering if I should rethink that decision.

I went to Turnstyle (consignment shop) and left with a cute pair of Ann Taylor pants, a pair of capris that I thought would fit but don't, a practically new cute! sweater, and a check for over $82. My three items were less than $8, and I had them subtracted from my consigning account before I got a check. AWESOME! Except I am now paying the music conissewer (intentional misspell) $15 to clean my car. I told her that she needs to clean for an hour. Then I have to go and clean the seats with carpet shampoo stuff because Emily (who we just nicknamed "sippy cup" spilled orange pop all over the back seat. Thanks, Emily!

Ok, off to do the carpet cleaner....