Since Zsa Zsa Gabor has gone off to the heavens to marry and divorce the rich angels, many of us have been worried about the future of glamour. Mickey Rourke is now here to smooth out our frazzled nerves with a look that is the epitome of glamour from the tip of that Emo nana wig to those melting rubber lips to that overgrown Pom (who can’t be bothered with the paps) to those tastefully ripped Fashion Nova jeans to that double serving of LV.
After having lunch with his Pom Pom friend at Caffe Roma in Beverly Hills, Mickey brought some sass, ass and class to the stroll. Because of that Louis Vuitton pocketbook and those luxurious Louis Vuitton boots, Mickey is either dressed like a teen girl from Texas who just ran into money and spent it all at Neiman’s or a mom from Texas who just ran into money and spent it all at Neiman’s. Whatever the case may be, Mickey is bringing it. Louis Vuitton can go ahead and fire their entire marketing department, because Mickey has done all of their jobs and done it better.
By the way, in my headline I’m referring to the beloved pooch in his hand, not the one on his head.
After Mickey Rourke had a cup of coffee with his Pomeranian named #1 (see: pictures below, you can tell that the lens-loving doggy called the paps), they hit the back alley pap stroll while making their way to their car. If anyone ever asks me what I want my future to look like, I’m going to show them this picture of Mickey and his fame whore fur ball. (I mean, look at how that pom is lighting up for the cameras.) Because living the life IS struttin’ around with a polyester slick-back granny wig on your head and a thirsty pom in your arm. I don’t know if Mickey doesn’t give one fuck or gives too many fucks, but I do know that he knows how to live.
That loud, messy cry you hear is John Travolta wailing after seeing Mickey Rourke show him all the way up in the wig department at last night’s premiere of The Infiltrator in NYC.
If anybody else was wearing a wig at last night’s The Infiltrator premiere, they definitely ripped it off, called it a night and waved down a cab as soon as they saw Mickey Rourke sashay onto the red carpet with a gorgeous frazzled skunk on top of his head. I’m not sure if that skunk on his head is trying to escape (because it can’t handle his heat) or if he meant to wear his wig that far back. Whatever the case may be, Mickey has definitely created a trend and soon everybody will be wearing their wigs all jacked-up like that. It’s like Mickey is daring a jealous bitch to try to snatch his wig, because he knows that if they try to snatch it, his skunk wig will bite back.
And maybe it’s just me (it is), but Mickey’s hairline reminds me of the hairline on Baby Abuelita:
Anything that reminds me of Baby Abuelita is forever a good thing.
Here’s more of Mickey giving you “church granny on a budget” from the neck up and “steampunk lesbian on a budget” from the neck down. I threw in pictures of others who were at last night’s premiere, but who cares about them. The only thing that matters is Mickey’s beauty!
Even though boxer Manny Pacquiao shat up a non-apology for saying that gays are “worse than animals,” he continued to double down on his comments by Instagramming Bible scriptures that say gay dudes getting caught doing gay sex should be murdered. While some of us patiently wait to hear the news that Manny P was caught tap-dancing in a men’s public bathroom somewhere, Loki’s human and champion boxer (Um, don’t give me that look, even if he used his wallet to win it, he still won it!) Mickey Rourke gave his thoughts about that shit. TMZ caught the Panty Creamer Hall of Famer outside of The Nice Guy in West Hollywood on Friday night and asked him about Manny P’s words. Mickey shat on Manny P’s comments and pretty much quoted notable philosopher Honey Boo Boo when he said he’s a little gay himself. (Cut to Little Gay from The Soup poking out of Mickey’s gorgeous wig while waving.)
Here’s what Mickey said about Manny’s comments while dressed like an extra fancy gay hair dresser from Wild Wild West times:
“I think they were wrong and out of place and I think that we all got to watch what we say. You know, that was from the Old Testament, he was quoting, so you got to give him a little bit of room. But I got a lot of gay friends. I’m a little bit gay myself.”
And to show he’s a “little gay,” Mickey kissed on another dude in front of the paps.
Manny P is probably not going to respond to Mickey, but I’d like to see him try to snatch the wig cemented onto the hot piece of salmon jerky’s head. It’s impossible. Mickey came prepared by using Gorilla Glue, Super Glue, Krazy Glue, Elmer’s Glue, four different rubber cement brands and chameleon saliva to keep his hot wig from leaving his head.
A high-powered winch, a crane clamp and a hungry eagle couldn’t yank off that wig. Mickey stays winning!
And here’s more of Mickey working that “butch Cinderella’s stepmother” lace front outside of The Nice Guy and at the premiere of Triple 9 with Norman Reedus.
Despite the fact that Mickey Rourke is one of the sexiest human beings in the universe (according to myself, Michael K, and all the other weirdos who get the damps for Mickey Rourke. PS – the club meets on the first Sunday of every month, bring cookies), Page Six says Mickey Rourke hates his current face and he’s trying to rebuild it. Someone get me the number of the White House; I’d like to report the desecration of a national treasure.
A “saddened friend” – that could be any of us, really – tells Page Six that 62-year-old Mickey is getting bone from his hip grafted into the roof of his mouth so that he can get new dental implants. He’s also using bone from one of his ribs to rebuild his nose. Another source claims he’s hooked on surgery, as if none of us with working eyes didn’t know that already:
“He wakes up in the morning and looks in the mirror and doesn’t like what he sees.”
Those jealous beauty-hating mirrors; they’re clearly reflecting a busted image back at him because they can’t handle how much panty-dropping hotness comes at them every morning. Rude. All joking aside, Mickey really needs to be careful about where he’s yanking bones from. Dude is 62-years-old – the last part of his body he should be fucking around with is his hips!
If Mickey feels so bad about the current state of his face, there’s a very easy solution, and it doesn’t involve surgery. I volunteer to follow Mickey around and constantly remind him how good he looks. I promise I won’t try anything funny (honest, I’m saving myself for the ghost of Road House-era Patrick Swayze), and I won’t even ask for money. Whatever it takes for Mickey Rourke to confidently strut down the sidewalk in a pair of too-tight spandex pants once again, I’m in.
Former actor and current hot piece of applewood smoked human pepaw bacon Mickey Rourke recently made a trip to Russia, but it wasn’t to film a movie or take a topless horseback ride with Vladimir Putin; it was to come out of amateur boxing retirement to fight against a 29-year-old in a pretty clearly fixed match. You know, as one does. The Daily Mail says that on Friday, Mickey went two rounds with Elliot Seymour, a dude half his age and in considerably better shape, before he knocked him out and was declared the winner. And by “knocked him out”, I mean gave him the signal that it was time for him to win by gently tapping him on the tummy. You can see all the dramatic soap opera fakery for yourself around the 9:17 mark:
Did you just have a flashback to that time you faked an injury to get out of dodgeball day in middle school? Because I did. Obviously Mickey’s win was about as real as Santa Claus or Tori Spelling’s left tit, which prompted Russia’s top boxing expert, Alexander Belenky, to comment on that mess:
“Mickey Rourke boxing – I’m too old for going to the circus. This ‘performance’ is just a good PR action.”
Alexander Belenky is an expert on boxing, but apparently he’s pretty good at reading a bitch too. The Russian shade of it all! But seriously, all this pitiful boxing fakery never would have happened if Loki, Mickey’s beloved dead chihuahua, was still alive! Loki would NEVER let Mickey fake his way to a victory; Loki would have spent months whipping him back into fighting shape like a little chihuahua version of Mickey Goldmill. And then when Mickey Rourke loses the fight (and he will, because that bitch is 62-going-on-197) Loki will shake off his tiny knit hat, pull on a black wig, and become his Adrian.