The first promo pic has been released showing Mickey Rourke decked out as villain Whiplash for next summer’s Iron Man 2.  I don’t read comic books, but I consulted The Google and learned that the movie character will be a combination of the comic book characters Whiplash and Crimson Dynamo, and… okay, look.  Let’s not kid ourselves, people.  Mickey Rourke is neat-o and I have no doubt that he’ll bring an interesting element to the hopefully asskicking Iron Man sequel, but this is really all just an elaborate excuse to post shirtless pictures of Robert Downey, Jr. again.

Rawrrrrr:

Since today has thus far been just as boring as yesterday, here are some time killing pictures of hot mess Mickey Rourke being all affectionate and charming with his so-homely-it’s-cute dog, “Jaws”.  Because fuzzy animals cure boredom.  It’s true.

That’s some bad hat, Harry:

Digital Spy reported this morning that Mickey Rourke inadvertently crashed Paris Hilton’s birthday party at Butter nightclub.

Hilton, who turned 28 on February 16, had hired New York’s Butter nightclub to celebrate her birthday with friends and family.

According to OK!, the Wrestler star arrived at the venue unannounced at around 2am, unaware that he was crashing a private party.

A source revealed that when one guest asked Rourke why he was at Hilton’s party, he replied: “Whose party? I’m not. I don’t know…We’re having our own party!”

The unnamed insider added that Rourke was a big hit with partygoers, who lavished him with attention and well-wishes for Sunday night’s Oscars.

Now, I really don’t know much about Mickey Rourke and I haven’t seen his new movie (watching a movie about wrestling isn’t exactly high on my want-to-see list), but if STDs had a face, don’t you think it would look an awful lot like Mickey? All greasy and sleazy-looking with loud clothes and gold chains and stuff. And Paris, well, she’s like a walking STD herself. So really, it’s like fate brought them together. Combine those two and you’d have the spokesman for Valtrex, like that walking phlegm-wad is for Mucinex. Need further convincing? Well, with the magic of bad photoshop, I’ve done a composite of their faces. I present to you, The New Face of STDs!

Because those bastard English are never happy unless they’re showing everyone else up, they also had an awards show last night.  It was the BAFTAs, and it was chock full of more interesting people in better clothes than the stupid losers at the Grammys.  Yay for red carpet round-ups (holy shit, I cannot wait for awards season to be over)!

Kate Winslet won yet another award, once again looked hot as hell doing it:

Brad’s still got that dumbass mustache, but Angelina didn’t wear a shapeless sack this time.  Her dress actually fit her and even had a sliver of colour!

Robert Downey, Jr. looked fantastic, and he was being so sweetly adorable with his wife that I think I got Diabetes just from looking at them:

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I’m not really down with the whole “urban” thing, so I asked one of my black friends if there was a street term for the sort of ensemble seen here on Mickey Rourke. And there is! Get your pads of papers and pencils, because you’re going to want to write this one down: according to him, it’s “fuckin’ gay-ass Kevin Federline-wantin’-to-be-biyach.” Feel free to supplement the expression with the words “dawg” or “yo” or “home skillet” for authenticity’s sake.

Now that she’s done bumping vaginas with Marilyn Manson, 21-year old Evan Rachel Wood has moved on to greener greasier pastures — 56-year-old actor Mickey Rourke. Fox News says

The two attended Grey Goose’s Official SAG after-party at the Shrine on Sunday evening but were spotted leaving together enroute to the later after party at the Four Seasons Hotel. The actress went upstairs with Rourke when he suddenly grabbed her for a lip-lock in the outside area of the swanky five-star hotel.

The duo have been romantically linked since she played his daughter in “The Wrestler,” although Wood always denied that they were anything more than friends.

You know, there are a lot easier ways of letting your parents know how much you hate yourself. My Chemical Romance and cutting, for example. Might want to look into that.

At the SAG awards:

Corky from “Life Goes On,” is that you?:

You know how in the beginning of Men In Black the hick farmer Edgar get eaten by that giant alien bug, who then conceals himself by wearing his skin, or “Edgar Suit”, as Will Smith’s character called it? That’s totally what I think of when I see Mickey Rourke these days. I mean, granted, I lot of time has passed since he looked like this, but this transcends the passage of time. I don’t believe it’s the same human being. I vote for the Mickey Suit!

Here he is with his ackward choice of a dog, Loki.

Golden Globe winner Mickey Rourke recently admitted he did steroids to prepare for his role in the new movie “The Wrestler.” No explanation as to his face, but I’m guessing he’s the victim of a chemical fire in his next movie. According to Starpulse

Rourke worked out twice a day with an Israeli cage fighter and gorged on seven meals a day to bulk up for the part [of heavyweight retired grappler Randy 'The Ram' Robinson]. But… he suggests he had a little extra help to speed up the process by indulging in a drug synonymous with the world of pro wrestling.

When asked if he took steroids, the star replies, “When I’m a wrestler, I behave like a wrestler.”

Which is exactly why I tell people I’m playing the role of an alcoholic single mother with a glandular issue and gonorrhea. I’m not a fat drunken slut; I’m a thespian!

At the Golden Globes:

Mickey Rourke strikes me as the kind of guy who bypasses the shower for those all-purpose body wipes so popular with hobos and truck stop hookers. Nothing about that man looks clean. And I bet you’re wondering, “What the hell is wrong with his damn face?” Well, it appears that he had laces sewn into the back of his scalp. You just pull those strings taut and voilà — the ol’ mug is tighter than a drum! And besides, scalp-laces are really the only logical explanation for his hair. No person in their right mind would put their fingers in there. Ten bucks says that ain’t Brylcreem, boys and girls. I’d rather stick my hand in a shark’s mouth.

With the lovely Maggie Grace at The Wrestler premiere:

Maggie Grace:

Fact: If you find yourself eyeballing a testicle less than two feet from your face and you’re not a urologist or a moyle, you’re a gay. If that testicle happens to be squashed out of the side of a leather banana hammock by a guy in a cowboy hat standing over a man in a dress, you should go ahead and invest in a mushroom brush and a Bowflex and learn the difference between wainscoting and boiserie.

More of Mickey Rourke enjoying karaoke night at Rokbar in South Beach on Sunday: