I love me a good motto. I love mottos even better when I can steal them from pop culture. Whether it’s Nicolas Cage’s “B.A.D. – Balls Attitude Direction” from Kiss of Death, “A.A. – Attitude Adjustment” from Rad, or my personal favorite “F.U.B.A.R.” from Tango and Cash, I like to yoink them all for my own personal abbreviated vocabulary. And I’m always on the lookout for a new one; which is why I was only too happy to see Britney Spears recently get in on the motto act.
In one her recent trips to court (for her kids, or her hit n’ runs, or her drug problems, or her communism or whatever), she inexplicably walked up to a reporter and yelled out “Ride, Lick it, Snort it, Fuck it!” and walked away. Now we could go on ad nauseum aover what possessed her to take focus away from her losing custody battle, her possibly getting her license suspended, her maybe getting jail time (which she probably should do at some point), to serve up some juicy grist for her trashy celebritard mill. But we’re not going to. Least of all because I promised not too, but mainly because, who cares? She’s retarded. And not in the mentally handicapped way, I mean she’s an idiot. You can’t put logic or reason behind the actions of an idiot. She dated Criss Angel, for chrissakes, how can we take anything she does seriously? We can’t. But what can do is laud her for awesome motto construction.
Those four words perfectly encapsulate her every waking moment, thereby making the motto a spot on phrase for the way she should live her life. For just one moment, she might have been the most clear, prescient celebrity in a three block radius (assuming Hasselhoff wasn’t around the corner getting drunk and spilling his Whopper Jr. everywhere.). If more celebrities took the time to create a motto about their particular brand of celebridom, it would go a long way to making us like them more. Not that that’s actually going to happen.
Since Britney (bitch!) is the only celebrity with the crazy stones to break themselves down motto-listically, I’ve taken the time to come up with some choice abbreviations for some of the biggest names in Hollywood. With any luck, they’ll be coked out of their minds at the county courthouse one day soon, yelling out the motto I created for them, and then retreating back inside to have their life ripped apart while they worry about when they’ll next get the chance to hit up Taco Bell. An internet humorist can dream…
Other Celebrity Motto’s (in Britney-specific format)
Lindsay Lohan: Drink it, Drug it, Rehab it, Repeat it!
Mel Gibson: Slur it, Jew it, Blame it, Sugartit it!
Tom Cruise: Ensnare it, Contract it, Publicize it, Fake it!
Angelina Jolie: Act it, Homewreck it, Adopt it, Pouty-Lip it!
Bruce Willis: Yippe it, Kay it, Yay it, Motherfucker it!
Keanu Reeves: Whoa it, whoa it, WHOA it, Whoa it?
Orlando Bloom: Act it, Bland it, Bore it, Snore it!
Jennifer Aniston: Oprah it, Vanity Fair it, People it, Milk it!
Ben Affleck: Date it, Act it, Fail it, Direct it!
Kiefer Sutherland: Scream it, Torture it, DUI it, Christmas Tree-Jump it!
David Hasselhoff: Hassel it, Hoff it, Drunk it, Record it!
Nicole Kidman: Curly it, Straighten it, Botox it, Shrill it!
Will Ferrell: Naked it, Baby Jesus it, Cowbell it, Burgundy Done it!
Michael Douglas: Lift it, Tuck it, Botox it, Zeta-Jones it!
Neil Patrick Harris: NPH it, Legen it, Wait it, DAIRY it!
Matthew McConaughey: Crunch it, Tan it, Lance it, Gylleenhall it!
Kiera Knightley: Lemonface it, Lionface it, Bitter Beer Face it, Bitch Face it!
Morgan Freeman: Narrate it, Gravitas it, Charisma it, God it!
Jennifer Lopez: Act it, Sing it, Spanish it, No One Likes it!
Scarlet Johansson: Lip It, Cleavage It, Blonde It, Is That It?
Bangarang!
Better words will come from better writers today, and as such, I will not attempt to editorialize on the impact of 9/11 nor its unending societal reach six years later. I am not a newsman or a pundit, I’m not a D.C. blogger nor a member of a political party. I lost no one in 9/11 and I know very few people that were even remotely affected by the tragedy. 
I work so hard to defend my boy. I go to exaggerated lengths to prove his worth as an actor and man. I end friendships to maintain his honor. I endanger my reputation as an entertainment humorist by 
I’m not much of a thinker a-header (NOTE: totally grammatically correct). I like to, as Garth Algar advises, “live in the now, man”. I prefer to focus on what’s directly in front of me and mentally note things in the future that may rock. But as we sit today in the doldrums of Summer, I can’t help but gaze down the road at what’s to come. 
I now care only about the fall season. I’m gonna consider the next few weeks a complete wash. Hell, I’m gonna consider most anything a wash unless it concerns Veronica Mars sharing screen time with HRG and Peter Petrelli. The levels of casting kickassitude contained in this development rival just about anything short of full cast sequels to A Few Good Men, Airborne, Rad, The Monster Squad and True Romance or that long rumored Arnold, Bruce and Sly action movie. I love me some summer, but g-damn, bring me that fall! This pop culture geek just got himself a new countdown!
Sunday, Sept. 9th – Opening Day of the 2007-2008 NFL Season. A day for much rejoicing, beer drinking, Fantasy Football pool killing, debt collecting, buffalo wing consuming, testosterone flaring, wives and girlfriends despairing, Sportscenter watching, YouTube clip embedding, sports blogging, TiVo commercial double-blooping, porn ignoring, fav team cheering, buddy high-fiving and general wonderment. I can’t wait to eat myself retarded while cheering on my Miami Dolphins as they bring the teal all over the Washington Redskins. Ronnie Brown is gonna be a golden god this year. Trust The Jay.
Tuesday, Sept. 18th – 
Monday, Oct. 8th – The most likely date for the first appearance of Kristen Bell on Heroes.
Sunday, Dec. 30th – Lakers vs. Celtics at the Staples Center. I am dying to see the new big three in green take on Kobe and whatever bunch of idiots they picked up off the street to pass the ball to Kobe. Jesus Shuttlesworth, insane-person Kevn Garnett, Monica Seles-wannabe Paul Pierce and old man Reggie Miller duking it out with acquitted Hershey Highway driver and ballhog extraordinaire Kobe Bryant, all while Jack Nicholson looks on form the front row and leers at the Laker Girls? It’s gonna be the biggest LA sports event of the fall, and I’ll be in the cheap seats taking it all in.
Today, I, and the rest of the world, or at least the Hollywood tabloidista, will honor the birth of one of the entertainment industry’s biggest and best coked out, rehab-shucking, talent-eroding, knife-wielding, weight dropping, boytoy banging, crazy as hell Celebritards since the Olsen twins turned eighteen. Yes, that’s right, batten down the hatches, order extra cases of Red Bull and Grey Goose, stay off the streets and hide your children, Lindsay Lohan turns 21 today. And we here at TheJay.com would like to celebrate this momentous occasion by bestowing 21 birthday wishes on our favorite former hottie who inexplicably dropped twenty pounds, took out her implants, died her hair blonde, started doing mass amounts of blow, showed up in a string of shitty movies, alienated the Disney crowd, put her imlants back in, when to rehab, crashed her car, went back into rehab, became tabloid fodder to the point where the paparazzi are bored of her and pretty much ruined any chance of becoming an all-time masturbatory redhead fantasy we all thought she would be, but instead ended up being considered sleazier than Paris Hilton (and Paris Hilton is a fucking convict!).
I miss the days before every minute of every day was caught on film. When pictures like Brad and Gwyneth sunbathing in the nude were passed around in secret, and the possibility of a celebrity going commando and forgetting to close her legs wasn’t even a thought in our heads. I miss being shocked and amazed when a hot female celebrity showed her goods on screen. It’s gotten to the point now when it’s simply assumed that we will see every hot girl’s bathing suit area. Like it’s our inherent right to invade that privacy. Part of what’s keeping Scarlet Johansson in the limelight is her adamant refusal to just relent and whip her top off. She tantalizes us with side boob and mega-cleavage, seemingly fully aware that we males are on our tippy toes waiting for her to slip up (and slip out).
