Commander-in-beef: Celebrating America's dreamiest Presidents

So seriously, what are you actually supposed to do on Presidents Day? Heck, it's hard to get people to agree on how to spell the observance, much less figure out what it's supposed to honor. 

Technically, Presidents Day is based around George Washington's birthday (though in a floating sense) and is meant to honor both him and Abe Lincoln. But the idea of only honoring two out of 44 (well, 43, plus a double) of our great leaders doesn't sit well with our inclusive policy here at AfterElton.com, so we're opening things up a bit.

So how to honor these men? Well, let's look at our current Presidential standings. We've got our first African-American Commander-in-Chief, a fact that has been noted in the press only slightly more frequently the fact that he also happens to be rather dashing. So in honor of President Obama's matinee idol good looks, we're looking back at the dreamiest Presidents in our nation's proud history. 

I used to sport the same kind of mutton chops that Van Buren did, and my straight British friend Merlin used to refer them as my "bugger grips". I leave you to figure out exactly what that means, and how that might apply to our eight President.

Polk rocked that whole Jonathan Pryce/Ralph Feinnes wet-eyed, high-collared dandy look, and rocked it well. Plus, he's got a great last name for making juvenile sexual references. (See also: 14. Franklin Pierce)

Or as his time-traveling colleagues used to call him, "Kennedy sub One". He of course hadn't the slightest idea what they were talking about, and had them whipped for insubordination.

Seriously, has there ever been a bigger flirt in the White House than James Buchanan? Just look at him ... he's undressing me with his eyes, I swear. Stop it, James, you're FILTHY!!

When I was young I totally had a crush on Tommy Lee Jones from Coal Miner's Daughter. I think Andrew Johnson would have that same kind of folksy charm, no?

No. K.

Daddaayyyyyyyyyyyy....

True, had they had windowless vans in 1877 Rutherford B. Hayes looks like he would likely have been camped in one in the vacant lot across from the one-room schoolhouse at 2PM every day. But there's something to be said for a man who isn't afraid to let the entire lower half of his face become overgrown with fur. Not something nice, perhaps, but something.

In this picture William McKinley looks like he is one wild hair away from slapping the shit out of the guy holding the flashbulb. And I have to admit, that's kind of hot.

I can sum up Taft's appeal in three words: 

Born.

To.

Tickle. 

Looks like someone found Buchanan's secret diaries hidden in the Oval Office ceiling tiles, because Warren G. Harding is positively violating me with that stare. You brute! Stop that this instant!

And finally, Harry S. Truman. Why? Because it's always the small, kind of nerdy ones you have to watch out for (I'm talking to you, Spitzer). And see the way his left eyebrow is just the tiniest bit arched? That arch says, "I'm the mothereffing King of the World, and I'm ready to party."