President of Syria
by JD and Kate.
Do not read this blog post straight through from beginning to end. These web pages contain many different adventures you may have as Syrian president Bashar al-Assad. From time to time as you read along, you will be asked to make a choice. Your choice may lead to success or disaster!
Remember—you cannot go back!
I mean, I guess you could click your browser’s “back” button. But I’ll know if you do, and I’ll be angry about it.
One mistake could be your last…or it could lead you to become the greatest president of Syria the world has ever seen! (Probably not though!)
You are Bashar al-Assad, a reserved ophthalmology student living in London.
One day while working on your term paper, “What is the Difference Between Ophthalmology and Optometry?”, you receive a phone call with shocking news—your older brother has been killed in a car accident!
And that’s not all: Your father has chosen you to be his new heir-apparent, and he wants you to fly home immediately so he can start grooming you to become the next president of Syria! (Did I mention that your father is the president of Syria? Well, he is.)
The next few years are a whirlwind of political and military training. Eventually your father dies, and you ascend to the (democratically elected) ancestral throne. Now that you are the president of Syria, the possibilities are endless!
Well, actually there are three possibilities:
President of Uruguay
José Mujica has been dubbed “the world’s poorest president.” I’m no accountant, but I suspect part of his problem is that he donates 90% of his salary to charity. (In contrast, I donate 90% of my salary to building up my designer scrunchie collection. Scrunchies are poised to make a comeback, and this time, I am going to be ready!!!!)
In addition to his show-offy charity donations, Mujica also refuses to move into the opulent Uruguayan presidential palace, and instead he lives in a shack. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a RadioShack. It’s just a regular shack (though possibly with a radio inside). I guess this means that the Uruguayan presidential palace is up for grabs?
I don’t know about you, but I am getting sick and tired of José Mujica making me feel bad about my innate selfishness and unbridled consumerism by living a life of austerity and generosity. So I’ve decided to turn things around and start following Mujica’s example. To that end, I have composed this list: (more…)
King of Spain
Last month, King Juan Carlos I surprised the world* by announcing that he would abdicate in favor of his handsome and gigantically tall son, Felipe VI. (Though to be clear, he did not mention his son’s handsomeness or giganticness in his announcement.)
At first everyone assumed that this was another one of the King’s hilarious pranks, like that time he pretended to invade Portugal.** But if it started out as a joke, it quickly became all too real, and on June 19, Felipe VI was crowned king of Spain. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd when Felipe donned the traditional Spanish Royal Crown, which is made entirely of bullhorns. (It used to be made out of bull’s horns, but after years of protest by animal-rights activists, it was replaced with a crown made out of bullhorns.)
As Juan Carlos no doubt realized, there are many ways that an aging monarch stands to benefit by retiring early: (more…)
by J.D. and Kate
On July 4, 1776, fifty-six brave patriots gathered together in the boring city of Philadelphia to sign a document that later came to be known as the Declaration of Independence.* Now, 238 years later, some equally brave patriots (me and J.D.) are commemorating the occasion by ranking those signers in order of hotness.
Like our Founding Fathers before us, we also have a long list of grievances against the British government, but we will save that for another day. Our rulings are final, but feel free to complain in the comments section and be ignored.
Here is the list.
*Actually, they just approved the final wording on July 4. Historians believe there never was an official signing ceremony, and instead Thomas Jefferson just forged everyone’s signatures.
Prime Minister of the Netherlands
Recently I discovered that if you do a Google search for “Mark Rutte shirtless,” this web site is the first result.* I won’t tell you how I found this out, because it reveals far too much information about my personal life. But I will say that you don’t need to bother Googling “Mark Rutte in a tank top,” because it yields no satisfying results.
Intrigued, I did some research and learned that in the past 5 years, 33 people have visited this site after Googling “Mark Rutte shirtless.”** No doubt they were hoping to find a treasure trove of shirtless Mark Rutte photos, only to have their hopes dashed when they discovered that this is just an incoherent and infrequently updated “humor” blog with no shirtless Mark Rutte photos whatsoever. I picture these 33 people hurling their laptops against the wall in a fit of Mark-Rutte-induced sexual frustration, resulting in them being asked to leave Starbucks.*** (more…)
Not a day goes by that we don’t get a phone call from some world leader wanting to know what he or she can do to improve their ranking on our totally arbitrary list of the hottest world leaders.
Since we simply don’t have time to field all of these phone calls, I have prepared this helpful guide entitled “How to Improve Your Ranking on HottestHeadsofState.com.”
Canadian prime minister Stephen Harper listens patiently to our hold music.*
Prime Minister of Denmark
First, I want to take a moment to congratulate Helle Thorning-Schmidt on being so hot. Bravo to her—and to the wise people of Denmark who convinced her to abandon her successful career as a Land’s End catalog model and take up residence in Denmark’s prime ministerial mead hall.
Thorning-Schmidt follows in the footsteps of a long line of hot Danish politicians, including:
1. Former prime minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen.
2. That guy who killed Hamlet’s father. (I guess it was his uncle.)
3. Sweyn Forkbeard.
Prime Minister of the Faroe Islands
We wouldn’t normally have included the Faroe Islands on this list, because it is a made-up place, and we have a fairly strict policy against imaginary countries.* Actually, we keep trying to delete the Faroe Islands from the site, but it keeps reappearing on its own. It’s pretty creepy, so I’ve decided to just go along with it.
As I was researching Kaj Leo Johannesen in preparation for making stuff up about him**, I couldn’t help but notice that 90% of his Wikipedia page is about his career as a football player. Now wait, before you get excited: by “football,” I mean “soccer”—one of the most boring sports in the world. (more…)
President of Afghanistan
As a special treat, I’d like to share with you an excerpt from the Hamid Karzai fan fiction I’ve been writing. It’s still a work-in-progress, so go easy on me!
Chapter 2: Tall, Dark, and Hamid
It is a hot and muggy evening. (Author’s note: By “muggy,” I mean both that it is humid and also that it is filled with muggers.) You are walking home from work after being roped into working late… again. As the only person in your office who lives alone, most days you don’t mind staying late to cover for colleagues who have families to get home to, but today you just weren’t in the mood. As you pass the doorway of your favorite watering hole, you feel a blast of air-conditioning. (Author’s note: “watering hole” is a slang term for “bar.” I’m going through sort of a cowboy phase in my writing.) On a whim, you turn around and mosey inside.
The bar is packed for a Thursday evening. You spot a vacant barstool and sidle up to the counter. The bartender, Ted, is busy—but when he sees you, he gives you a nod and brings over your usual drink. As you take a sip, you cast your eyes around the dark, crowded room, and with a jolt you realize that someone across the room is staring at you intently. As your eyes meet his, you quickly take him in. His large eyes are brown, almost black, and framed by thick, black eyebrows. He has a straight nose and a smooth, bald head. The rest of his face is hidden by a neatly trimmed, salt-and-pepper beard.
You feel a rush of heat as your cheeks turn bright red, and you quickly look away. You turn to your drink, taking a long, slow sip as you gather your thoughts. Just as you are debating whether or not it’s safe to glance over at him again, suddenly you sense someone standing right next to you. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. (more…)
President of Mexico
You probably didn’t notice, but we’ve spent the last several years neglecting this website in favor of other pursuits. For one thing, JD and I had a couple of kids, so you can now look forward to our upcoming web site on which we rank our children in order of how much they’ve disappointed us.
More importantly though, we finally achieved the American dream of building a fake Mexican town in our basement.
Is this Mexico, or is it my basement? It’s hard for me to tell, because I’ve never been to Mexico.
I know you are probably thinking, “What does this have to do with Mexican president Enrique Peña Nieto? Is this just an excuse for you to show off photos of your amazing, amazing basement?” Ha ha! Well, you’re on to me. (more…)