THE PRESIDENT: Good morning. Yesterday, former First Lady and Adolpho gown mannequin Nancy Reagan made a bizarre attempt to communicate with me through the pages of the New York Times. Apparently, though I have gone out of my way to invite Mrs. Reagan to several events where she could have the honor of participating in my 2004 campaign literature photo shoots, she selfishly wants something more - namely, for me say it's OK for her to go around slurping poor, innocent fetuses out of the diseased coochies of teen-aged welfare sluts so she can rip their heads off with her bony, claw-tipped fingers and inject their sweet little baby brains into whatever's left of her drooling zucchini of a husband.

And so this morning, rather than play this little game of talking to each other through newspapers, I want to deliver a few words directly to Mrs. Reagan. I've asked Karl Rove to telephone her and he has confirmed that she is tuned in to C-SPAN at this time. So let's begin.

Mrs. Reagan, thank you for taking a few minutes off from conspiring with the liberal press to sit down and have me talk at you. I know that many Americans have tremendous and misguided respect for you - and that's why it's important to me that I appear to give a shit about what you think - even after you spent eight long years glaring down that snooty beak of yours at my family like we were something Ronny tracked across your oriental carpets after gelding a few Arabians down in the stables. That's right, I remember even if you don't. Like at your little "Just Say No" party back in 1985? Laura and I may have been half blacked out on Southern Comfort 100 and reds, but we weren't too far gone to see that you were a truckload more interested in comparing gold jewelry with Mr. T than even so much as hocking a loogie in the direction of the future 43rd President and his wife. But I'm bigger than all that ancient history, so let's move on.

I know that you care about the Gipper. I do too. How could I not? He is, after all, the last cognitively impaired Commander in Chief before myself to hold this office, and I am keenly and bitterly aware of the fact that most Republicans like him far more than they do my father or myself. Nevertheless, his were two glorious terms of nukular saber rattling, paranoid nationalism, and brilliant scandal suppression - and I am proud to shamelessly emulate his formula for success. Yes, whether I'm delivering the same jingoistic and monosyllabic stump speech for the umpteenth time, playing the part of a dusty cowboy on my made-for-TV ranch, or hungrily fellating the power brokers of the Christian Right, the Gipper's great head of hair is never far from my mind. And that's why it pains me when I hear that you, his woman, have not only become a baby-killer, but also seem to have forgotten that Republican wives should be seen and not heard.

Of course, I realize that your mind has been polluted. Clearly, spending so much time with that demented shell of a man has left you very impressionable to the messages of liberal "scientists" who want you to believe that the good Lord's will can and should be thwarted through the use of stem cells. Well I'm here to tell you different. God's will is being done at all times. Yes, God made Ronald Reagan an astute political animal, and later, a stupored geriatric vegetable. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and we must not doubt Him even for a second, lest we be destined to writhe for all eternity in the same pit of molten lava to which you, Nancy Reagan, have already condemned yourself by questioning his infinite wisdom.

In closing, I would hope that in the few remaining years you have left before going to Hell, that you would make an effort (perhaps with the assistance of your Godless astrologer) to remember that above all else, real Republicans treasure the sanctity of the unborn child. Of course, once they're out and about, they had better not come holding out any poor, colored, grubby palms asking for handouts or sex education or equal access to jobs or fair voting or any other liberal mumbo-jumbo like that - but that's another issue entirely.

I'm so happy that we've had this chance to communicate today, Nancy, and I want to sincerely thank you in advance for keeping your wrinkled and whiney dragonlady piehole stitched the hell shut from now on. Have a lovely day.

Thank you Nancy, and God Bless America.

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