Vladimir Putin

President of Russia
by Kate

Vladimir Putin

This is also the image I used for my Christmas cards last year!

You’re in for a real treat today! And no, I don’t mean a cookie. Stop asking me for cookies all the time! The treat is that I just finished the first chapter of my much-anticipated Vladimir Putin fan fiction novel! It’s not a cookie, but it’s…well…that’s all I can think to say about it, actually.

Chapter 1: Meetin’ Putin

It has been three long months since you landed a job in the mailroom at the Kremlin (thanks Monster.com!), but something about it still makes you feel nervous and on edge.

Maybe it’s because you’re spending so many hours alone in the cavernous basement mailroom, sorting through stacks of mail as high as St. Basil’s Cathedral. (Well, like a 2-foot-tall replica of St. Basil’s Cathedral.)

Maybe it’s because you’re not always sure what’s going on, because you don’t speak any Russian.

Or maybe it’s because your breath gets caught in your throat like a prisoner in Siberia every time you catch a glimpse of your boss—Vladimir Putin.

It’s not like you see him very often though. One time you passed him in a narrow hallway, and you were so flustered that you think you might have run over his foot with the mail cart. (You definitely ran over something with the mail cart, and at the same moment Putin let out a very loud Russian expletive.)

Now that you’re alone under the wan, flickering lights of the secluded mailroom, you can barely keep your mind off of Vladimir Putin, and the way it would feel to run your hand along one of his completely hairless arms.

That’s when you catch a whiff of something—a heady combination of porridge, bear musk, and feral masculinity.

“Excuse me,” purrs a heavily accented voice.

You turn around, and there he is, leaning against the open door. He is wearing his usual “Casual Friday” uniform: camouflage pants, hiking boots, and a tan, muscular chest.

There is an awkward pause, until you realize that he is waiting for you to say something.

“Mr. President,” you finally choke out. “Is there…something I can do for you?”

One corner of his lips turns up, as if the question amuses him, and he saunters into the room until he is only a few feet away from you. You shiver involuntarily.

“Am I getting a promotion?” you laugh nervously, trying to hide the quiver in your voice and probably not succeeding.

His expression turns serious. “No,” he says harshly. “You are a terrible mail clerk. Instead of sorting the mail based on who it is addressed to, you have been sorting it by envelope color.”

“Yeah, it turns out it’s easier that way! A lot of the envelopes are white.”

“I know.”

“I give all of the white ones to Olga from Accounting, because I don’t like her.”

“Yes, I know that as well! Her office is filled to the ceiling with envelopes. She has filed a formal complaint against you.”

“Are you here to fire me?” you ask uncertainly.

“No,” he says, looking a little weary now. “I should fire you, if nothing else because all of our outgoing mail for the past three months has been returned for insufficient postage. ”

“I’m going to figure it out one of these days!”

“But I have to confess,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted. “You intrigue me. When I look into someone’s eyes, I can see straight through into their soul. And then I can see straight through that, into their soul’s soul. Which usually just looks the same as their soul. But there is something different about you. You are special.”

You gulp, not sure what to say. You stand still and try to look special (which, you decide, means fluttering your eyelashes really fast).

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asks suddenly.

“Well…let’s see. I’ve still got seven more hours of work…”

“Come away with me. I want to take you to my lavish vacation home on the Black Sea. Architectural Digest called it ‘obscenely large’ and ‘an appalling misuse of state funds.’”


“You can sit on the marble portico overlooking the dolphinarium, while you watch me wrestle a series of successively larger and more agitated dolphins.”

“That all sounds great,” you say. “But…what about the mail?”

“The mail can wait,” he says with a wink.

“Really? That is the opposite of what the mailman keeps telling me!”

“What? Who is this mailman that is bothering you? Tell me his name, and I will have him poisoned.”

“Um,…that’s really not necessary…”

“Just a little poison then?”


Thanks for reading! Check back soon for “Chapter 2: Putin on the Ritz.”

Cristina Fernández de Kirchner

President of Argentina
by Kate

Cristina Fernández de Kirchner

If you are not putting this much effort into your eye makeup, then you are failing as a woman. (Or you’re a man. In which case, congratulations!)

Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner is the president of Argentina and the only head of state who knows how to properly apply eyeliner. (Here’s a tip: You put on a lot. I mean, a LOT. There. Now you look great! Like a sexy panda.)

But while her eyeliner somehow keeps looking better and better, in every other respect 2015 has not been a great year for the lovely Argentine president. Let’s take a moment to review all of the things that are going wrong for Cristina Fernández de Kirchner right now. (more…)

Alex Tsipras

Prime Minister of Greece
by Kate

Alexis Tsipras

Tsipras is sometimes called the “Greek Che Guevara,” presumably because Che Guevara was also good-looking and eventually rose to become prime minister of Greece.

Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras is the best thing to happen to Greece since the disgusting Greek yogurt fad. Not only is he handsome, he is also in favor of spending money with reckless abandon. So basically he has everything that I want in a man (except for a candy bar that he brought me as a surprise…and for all I know he has that too! Someone should check his pockets.)

Sworn in earlier today, Tsipras immediately rocketed to the Top 10 of our list of hottest world leaders, leaving a cloud of bewildered, less-attractive leaders in his wake. Pundits have speculated that his election could set off a chain of events that ends with the collapse of the Euro, but I am mostly OK with this, for the following reasons. (more…)

Taavi Rõivas

Prime Minister of Estonia
by Kate

Taavi Roivas

There are a lot of perks to being prime minister of Estonia. One of them is this chair.

It’s not every day you come across a 35-year-old head of government, which—let’s face it—is probably a good thing for everyone involved. The last thing we need is a bunch of Millennial prime ministers posting selfies to Facebook while driving, or constantly complaining about their student loan debt. (more…)

Head of State Halloween Costumes

Still scrambling to come up with a Halloween costume that’s smart, sexy, and completely unrecognizable? Why not dress as a head of state! If nothing else, you’ll finally get to wear that suit you bought for job interviews.

But with over two hundred heads of state to choose from, how do you narrow it down to just one? Luckily for you, JD and I have nothing to do, so we’ve compiled this list of 13 Heads of State Who Would Make Great Halloween Costumes.

You can thank us by following us on Facebook or Twitter, or by thinking of us fondly.

Bashar al-Assad

President of Syria
by JD and Kate

Choose Your Own Adventure


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! (more…)

José Mujica

President of Uruguay
by Kate

Jose Mujica in his kitchen

Uruguayan president José Mujica claims to have invented “shabby chic.” No one disputes this claim.

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 spend 90% of my salary on 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 don’t know about you, but I am getting sick and tired of José Mujica making me feel bad about my 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…)

Felipe VI

King of Spain
by Kate

Felipe VI

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 he did not actually 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 protests 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…)

The Hottest Signers of the Declaration of Independence

Signing of the Declaration of Independence

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.