Look up. Look around you. Yes, it’s him. In a tight T-shirt, shorts, and life-vest.
Justin Trudeau is very likely kayaking toward you right now.
Today, promoting World Environment Day (yadda yadda!) the Canadian Prime Minister kayaked up to some people on the Niagara River in Niagara-on-the-Lake, his ramrod straight craft scything through the water like a knife through the softest butter. Nothing would stop him. Nothing could stop him.
See how he did that? Smooth as anything. “How’s it going?” “Oh, great Mr. World Leader, you?” “Yeah, fine, y’know, just kayaking.”
Even if you don’t live anywhere near water, Trudeau will find a way to let the softest of currents of water—or air—transport him toward you. Once in front of you, he will smile, make you all fluttery, make small talk with you, and he will just sit there in his little kayak, chatting away, back perfectly straight, as if this was totally normal.
You, of course, are a gibbering mess.
Justin Trudeau is flirting with the world. And the world, honestly, is melting at the knees at his studly yet cute come-ons. This is relentless flirtation, and relentlessly relished flirtation. If there is such ugliness in the world, who’s to apologize for looking for the pretty? Justin Trudeau’s hotness is performing a vital public service.
He even flirts with other straight men with ease—well, at least the ones he knows will photograph well alongside him. Justin Trudeau and French President Emmanuel Macron, who are so adorable together, became immediate fan fic just by looking at each other and smiling when they speak. A walk at the G7 in Italy looked more like a romance than the musings of two international, apparently heterosexual statesmen. Check out this range of fanfic that their encounter elicited.
Today, Trudeau was interviewed by Kelly Ripa and Ryan Seacrest on ABC’s Live With Kelly and Ryan, with the frothing Niagara Falls—yes, frothing, and probably frothing even more frothily than normal because even world-famous waterfalls froth more violently for Justin Trudeau—behind him.
He tried, tried, to be demure about his sex appeal.
As recorded by the National Observer, Ripa asked: “How does your wife feel about you being named the sexiest politician alive?”
“My wife’s the one who doesn’t believe it. She’s like, ‘Really?’ She knows what I look like when I get up in the morning,” said Trudeau.
“Is it so different than this?” replied Ripa.
“A little messier,” said Trudeau.
Oh Justin, you tease. He went on to talk about Trump, terror attacks, and flubbed—oddly—on the matter of Canada having a female prime minister. He would like Canada to have one, he said, but Canada has already had one in Kim Campbell in 1993.
Still, Trudeau’s cuteness continues unbidden.
There was the time last year when he photo-bombed, shirtless, someone’s beach wedding last year.
There was the time he came across a group of teens celebrating their prom. Again: more tight running shorts in Vancouver.
And there was the time a family bumped into him, shirtless in the woods.
Are they staged? Sometimes they occur—mysteriously—when Trudeau’s official photographer, Adam Scotti, is also about. But mostly, it seems that Trudeau has a lot of hotness to give, and an awareness that the world will lap up any photo opportunity in which he exhibits said hotness, whether it is spontaneous or staged.
The collision of Trudeau-cuteness and harder political realities, or vexed international confrontation, has yet to occur. Right now, Trudeau knows the winning value of his looks and the winning value of the taking of pictures to exhibit the same. If he minds being objectified, he isn’t saying so. Indeed, on he flirts, in kayaks and short shorts.
One of my colleagues, straight, just imagined this endless stirring of passions will end in a hot, sweaty wrestling match with Vladimir Putin, who is not unknown to publicize bare-chested pictures of his own. Trudeau fantasies, once uncorked, are polysexual.
Damn Prime Minister Trudeau for manipulating us so obviously.
Obviously carry on manipulating us, Prime Minister Trudeau.