Mickey Rourke’s DUI arrest while driving his Vespa was reduced to a lesser charge of reckless driving. His lawyer effectively proved the breathalyzer was faulty. Mickey took the opportunity to voice his opinions to the Palm Beach Post about the cop that arrested him:

“I’m friends with most cops in the city and they told me the guy who got me isn’t even liked by his colleagues,” Rourke tells Page Two. “He’s a 400-pound fuck unfit for duty.”

Mickey had a passenger with him on the Vespa, but there’s no way anyone was getting a hold of her to testify. He doesn’t even know who the hell she was:

Rourke said the mysterious blond riding on the back of the Vespa at the time of his arrest couldn’t have been used as a witness at a trial.
“Don’t ask me her name,” Rourke says. “I have no idea who she was. I met her in a bar and never saw her again.”

Hell yeah, Mickey Rourke. Getting arrested for DUI on a Vespa with some chick you picked up at a bar is American as apple pie - made with whiskey. And to prove how unequivocally badass you are, Mickey, these latest photos show you walking around looking like Kathleen Turner. Righteous!

Cameron Diaz did a little shoe shopping yesterday and, frankly, I forgot she was even alive. Her hotness is so questionable, I’m not even sure I can legally post these. I’m waiting for the guys upstairs to give me a confirmation. And here it is.. *reads* Okay, I think this means “yes”. I don’t speak legalese, so I’ll copy and paste it for you guys to transcribe:

Superficial Writer,
Even the blind janitor knows Cameron Diaz is a mutant giant with lips of the apocalypse. In the future, instead of abusing our time with asinine questions, we kindly request that you seek an alternative route. Namely getting AIDS in the face.
Sincerely,
Anticlown Legal Dept.

Those guys are class acts. I should send them a fruit basket.

Amy Winehouse posed nude to raise breast cancer awareness. How, exactly, I couldn’t even fathom because currently my brain is trying to punch its way out of my ear. I don’t know which is worse: this ad or the close up shots of Amy’s impetigo’d face. At this point, I’d rather look at secret option #3 otherwise known as a tomahawk entering my retina.

Thanks to Todd for the pic. Remind me to repay you in non-negotiable “I’m burning your goddamn house down while you sleep” dollars.

Since I have been giving a decent amount of coverage to Ashley Alexandra Dupre, it’s only fair that I report on Eliot Spitzer’s post-resignation offers. It looks like Playgirl is countering Ashley’s $1 million Hustler deal and wants the former governor to debrief (witty!) himself in a full nude photo shoot, according to their official blog:

Your political career is sadly over; and you owe a lot of money to a lot of people. Hell, you may land in jail before too long. So consider this letter a brief note of urgency.
How about making some loot back, by showing us what you saved for such a select few? How about strutting your sexuality, and defending your right to get down for the magazine and Playgirl.com?

Spitzer, old chum, I say do it. I did a shoot for Playgirl back in the day and those folks are nothing but professional. I mean, the way they called security when I showed up naked on a random set was top notch. Those guys really knew how to pry my steel grip from the stuffed polar bear I mounted in the scenery. I was going for a Grizzly Adams meets James Bond look. Unfortunately, it turned into more of a TASER beam meets testicle look. I pee sitting down now.