There he is, all sexy…
If I was a stand up comic, which I’m not, I’d open with a few “hey guys, how ya doing? Anyone here from blah blah…” then I’d launch into a killer routine about plastic surgery. “Has no one noticed that these people can only do one face?” I’d say in the style of Jerry Seinfeld. ONE FACE! Bride of Wildenstein, Kylie Minogue, Mickey Rourke. They all look the same. Joan Rivers. In fact the only good thing about being a Sylvester Stallone lookalike these days is that you can double up as a Jackie Stallone lookalike and increase your income. The crowds would be rolling in the aisles, and I’d segue into another bit about how it’s somehow okay to go into posh restaurants in foreign countries wearing swimming trunks. Anyway, this is all by the by, because we’re here to rifle through the mists of time and slobber over Mickey Rourke before he went into the ring, then subsequently under the knife. He was gorgeous. Even as a young heterosexual lad with an unhealthy over-interest in everyone’s tits, I could tell that the guy whispering his way through Rumble Fish or icing up Basinger’s nips in 9 ½ Weeks was hot stuff. Mysterious with cool hair – I’ve spent my entire life trying to exact that particular equation.
Anyway it’d be an injustice to provide eye candy for the chicks without laying on a little something for the lads. Below is the aforementioned Basinger.