Rating: 9
AdamEvePictures.comA good buddy I grew up skateboarding with just had his penis surgically removed, and Mickey Rourke made him do it. As kids there was no one we wanted to be more than The Pope of Greenwich Village– and 9½ Weeks–era Mickey Rourke. It went far beyond the simple fact that he got to have on-screen sex with the stunning Daryl Hannah and Kim Basinger. He was our generation's James Dean; he exuded cool and was arguably even more handsome. I remember as young men we tried to mimic Rourke's every mannerism and physical attribute. At a time in our lives when we had every bit of self-confidence beaten out of us by abusive fathers, Mickey Rourke's cocksure attitude taught us to walk tall.Sadly, Rourke didn't love the man in the mirror as much as we did, and somewhere along the line he had his beautiful face (and everything he stood for, in our eyes) sliced off with a scalpel. We were devastated. The back-alley butcher who botched Rourke's plastic surgery made him completely unrecognizable, leaving us to question the depth of his character and bravado. My buddy took it far worse than I. Over the years I've become quite confident in my handsomeness despite my obvious oversize nose, protruding ears, lazy eye, and thinning hair, but my friend should have never had reason to doubt himself; he could have been a male model. He was a chiseled Adonis who would make girls go pee-pee when they saw him and make gay men cry that he didn't play for their team. But when the photos of Rourke's new unrecognizable face began to surface, my friend questioned his own good looks. I recall drunkenly arguing with him repeatedly over his crazy notion that he, like his idol, should go under the knife and "fix" his face. I believe it was at this time that his internal transformation, which led to his external transformation, must have manifested. He was no fool—he knew Rourke's new look was by no means an improvement—but he couldn't accept that his god was not happy in his own skin, and he was uncertain just how happy he was in his.I'm not sure if you can imagine the rush of emotions we both experienced recently after my friend's surgery when we watched this porno remake of the Rourke classic 9½ Weeks together. We are at two different points in our lives, with my friend now seemingly paying closer attention to the male stars in porn. The male lead in this porno is one of the stars of Bret Easton Ellis's The Canyons, James Deen. In terms of looks, Deen can't hold a candle to the young Mickey Rouke, and yet he possesses a poise and self-assuredness that trumps the 80s star. I watched my buddy's eyes dart all about the 70-inch LED screen whenever Deen was in a scene. "What do you think of him?" I asked. "I'm just in awe of him. He's skinny and Jewy and doesn't at all look like a porn star or a movie star, and yet he totally owns his shit. It's really impressive." I wondered, "But would you fuck him?" My buddy shot me a look of disgust and said, "What the fuck, dude? I like chicks. I'm a fucking lesbian."More stupid can be found at Chrisnieratko.com or @Nieratko on Twitter.