In the immortal words of Howie Mandel, “it’s my potty and I’ll cry if I want to.”

Fightin, Lovin, Poopin is the Journey song we needed but never got.

Sounds like three reasons to me,

I know a girl who thinks it goes. she’ll make you breakfast. she’ll make you toast. but she don’t use butter, and she don’t use cheese. she don’t use jelly or any of these

she uses vaseline