THE PRESIDENT: Good afternoon. Well, here I am back in a nursing home again. I must confess, with all my political campaigns behind me, I never thought I'd find myself back in one of these joints – at least not until that inevitable day when my poppy, George the Elder, finally wipes out in a puddle of his own vodka sick and plummets head-first down the Kennebunkport Italian marble staircase. And yet, here I am. (Winks.)

The reason I'm here today is that for some strange reason, a lot of you oldsters are saying you're confused about my all-new "strengthened" and "modernized" version of Medicare. You're saying it's so complicated, you can hardly make heads or tails of it.

Well I gotta tell you that that confuses me – on account of the nice Insurance Company people who dictated the whole plan to me are supposed to be the world's #1 experts at making stuff super-simple and non-complicated. That, and I also went the extra mile and had the whole thing reviewed by someone who specializes in making stuff real easy for old folks to understand: that nice gal who designed the 2000 Palm Beach County butterfly ballot. And yet you still can't get it?

Get the GODLY New Book!

Well then let me break it down for you one more time: There's - when you feel ill, it is – you probably want to go see a doctor – whether Jewish or not – the doctor, not you. Unless you are. And then, the doctor – he's all going to – unless he's a she, which some not-as-good doctors are – going to make out a prescription, which is like a Post-It note that says you don't have to take those crappy over-the-counter drugs that don't even get you high. And then, well, you can – you think about how it's gonna get paid for. And that's when, depending on how poor you are – you spin the roulette wheel and lock yourself into the option (there's different ones) that seems good – like a deal for you – but really saves money for the insurance companies – which just coincidentally own me. So just... like... pick. There's a nice, oversized, double-sided form with 4-point type that spells it all out just as clear as an IRS 1040-QXV9 addendum.

But if that's too hard for wrap your dementia-ravaged swiss cheese brains around, don't worry, there's help. Specifically, you can call 1-800-Medicare, where a real live person who just happens to talk like Stephen Hawking will tell you to press buttons for 30 minutes before hanging up on you. You can also get on the internets with "Medicare Dotguv" – which has something to do with those "computer" things that I know even less about than you. Or you can – um – just ask some folks. Anyone will tell you it's all good. Unless they don't, which clearly means they're even more batshit senile than you are – and you should ignore them.

So there, doesn't that sound easy? I want to thank you all for coming. By sitting semi-conscious in your wheelchairs while the photographers snap pictures, you are serving as useful props in a bit of cynical political theatre designed to communicate the message, "Republicans care about seniors – and the time-tested Federal programs they depend on – even while we're actively pursuing a semi-covert agenda to implode them."

By the way – the plan goes into effect next month. So sign up now, or you WILL die a slow, agonizing death with no painkillers.

(Double Thumbs-Up.)

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