Mickey Rourke in a London hotel, January 2009.
The only thing missing from this photo is me, eight Chihuahuas, some kibble in case the dogs (or Mickey) get hungry, a white cowboy hat, a bottle of Makers, a carton of Marlboro red box, and a blindfold.
What? No handcuffs or similar restraints? So disappointed in you CB!
Restraints? How about some freaking deodorant for the roadkill hair weave wearing douche? and I think you would want to at least consider popping a couple ruphies and LSD so at least you would be in a similr state as the guy in the bed next to you. I wonder if his spunk smells like old foramdehyde in a dirty ash tray?