Anyone else ever see the “Solaris” remake?
I’m going to hope-assume you all did. ’cause this:
Although this film’s in my top faves, every time I see it, I think:
1: This soundtrack is awesome.
2: How (while orbiting a conscious planet with psychic powers) does George Clooney maintain the perfect amount of mug fuzz?
3: I suppose I could have used his other outer space flick “Gravity” to introduce this topic. But I didn’t. Because its soundtrack wasn’t nearly as good. Moving on.
Apparently I’m not the only one who wonders how our courageous cosmonauts keep it sexy while suspended in the darker parts of the infinite vacuum in which we reside. Because when I consulted my information guru, Google, I came up with the following:
Somehow, this didn’t fulfill the masculine montage of chiseled-chin fantasy that was previously unraveling in my head.
Instead, it just spurred a more insatiable need to pry into all the other little details of their lives while levitating. It’s that whole “One does not simply send a sexy text photo” rule. I’m going to need the full dick pic-esque ablution rundown routine from you guys, recorded and beamed back to me, cam to cam style. From toe nail clipping to barber shopping and face scrubbing, I’m having to imagine Pennywise engulfed in a space suit, holding a bobbing balloon he blew up himself (because non-gravity, duh) and saying “UP heeeere, they allll float.” Maybe that’s because it is kinda terrifying.
Can you imagine breathing in someone’s nutsack follicles while you sleep?
Luckily, our brave men and women predicted my intrigue needs ahead of time (obviously because I donate to space causes like telescopes), and thusly directed a series of videos to serve as celestial yes-ands to the above clip on clipping your face fur.
Like hair washing:
(Glad to see Nurse Jackie found a new way to get high #zing #shelooksjustlikeher.)
Or crying yourself to sleep when you’re alone with your thoughts and regretting ever having watched Sagan as a kid because if you hadn’t you wouldn’t be up here in a floating prison questioning your entire existence and slowly descending into madness.
I think I was wondering more, “will my tear duct explode in the process?”
But A+ for nice end-line of “tears don’t fall”. What else you got, shawty?
A vacuum-manicure?
Oooh… Guitar? Clooney or not, having a musician around while catching a case of cosmo cabin fever would probably result in some bow chicka wow-… Okay. I can’t keep up this facade of pretending to be attracted to Sam Elliot or his ‘stache (even though NASA status does automatically land you sexy points). But sex (not buttsex – too messy) in microgravity was something I also tried to hunt down footage of long ago, and came up short. So far, it’s been mostly speculation about whether it happens (duh, of course it does – where do you think the brand “AstroGlide” came from?)
What I did find, though, was this excrement hoover:
Ahem… Interesting. Sorry, but even Clooney couldn’t make toilet sitting be cute or sexy or-
Ah. Nevermind.
I can admit when I’m wrong:
In sum:
A. I think I’ll go watch the Hollywood lie version again so I can pretend I never saw these.
B. WaterCloset-gate was in 2008? I had to check the video date twice.
C. Jesus, I’m old.