GW Readers, let me take you on a trip to the vast wonder that is Siberia. You’re on the 3rd day of a hike with your Mongolian porter Naraanbatar. Imagine you’ve developed a sleepwalking disorder and unwittingly leave your trusty Mongol in the middle of the night. You wake alone, the ground rising before you as the mountainous terrain gets steeper. You start to freak the fuck out. After all, you have no water because you decided to fill your canteen with borscht. But then you see it. On the horizon, a man approaches. Not just any man…
- Look at that majestic animal. And he can ride a horse.
“Am I hallucinating powerful Russians?” you ask yourself. Nope. That is really Putin. Shirtless. On A Horse. For a staged photo-shoot. Life-savingly weird.
Putin sees you and recognizes your calls for help. He starts galloping in your direction. Then all of a sudden he hops off the horse and jumps in a nearby lake, swimming with a purpose. This is odd considering he’s swimming in the opposite direction. But hey, that’s Putin, and the point is he’ll either save you or crush you. Just don’t thank him because you might get an awkward stomach-kiss.
Show me "frolic!"
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I refer you to poorluckyme for debate regarding the sexiest Euro leader. I’ve always been a Berlusconi-man myself. The reasons are obvious.
What’s up with that wee little man on the trailing horse? That must have been an intentional plant to make Putin look a solid 7’4″, 360lbs.