Nothing beats listening to Sarah Palin struggle to read from one of her ghostwritten books in her own screechy voice. You know, besides listening to two cats fornicate that is.

This excerpt (Brought to us by the great folks over at Wonkette.) is from Palin's new book entitled "Good Tidings and Great Joy, Protecting the Heart of Christmas," or perhaps better known by it's alternate title "I know absolutely nothing about Christmas but I hear you can make a buck by faking it"

To be honest you simply cannot get the true experience of having the screechy stupidity wash over you and steal away your will to live unless you listen to Snowdrift Snooki read it herself, which you can do here:

However I will provide this transcript, because I am a nice guy and it IS Halloween and this was the first thing to really make my hair stand on end the entire day.

It starts right in the middle of some sentence about walking in the woods I believe:

"Occasionally startling a moose, passing caribou further north, and hoping the kids in the back keep up. 

As Governor I was able to see even more jaw dropping vistas throughout Alaska. But the most beautiful scenes were the ones I've taken in through the lenses of my snowmachine goggles. (Alaska Snowmachine reference to show you are outdoorsy, check.)

When we arrived at the homes of our friends and families, we frequently played Eskimo Bingo. (By the way using the term "Eskimo" in Alaska these days is considered somewhat culturally insensitive. Something you would think a woman married to a Yupik would know.) A gift swapping game, and the only time we'd enthusiastically encourage the kids to be greedy. (I don't really think the Palin kids required muhc encouragement.)

Everyone brings a wrapped gift for exchange and places it on the floor. With a timer ticking, we roll dice in a pie tin, and hope to get doubles so the gift grabbing can begin. Each person gets to steal present from the center of our circle. Even ones already nabbed.

This might sound like a fun parlor game, but but gets intense. (Hair pulling and eye gouging is allowed I'm sure.)

When someone unwraps something good and places it on the floor, even for a moment, it's fair game.

One year, a highly coveted box of homemade chocolates, from a bakery in Indiana, caused us to play well into the night. (Okay is it just me or is the idea of "home made chocolates" coming from a bakery kind of inconsistent?) I ended up with that one because I'm the mom, and I refused to let the game end until it ended well. (Okay, is this really the side of her that she wants the people buying this book to know?)

Some years I've ended up with one of the gag gifts. A singing fish wall plaque. A dusty old fossil from dad's shelf. A warped tin sign that reads, "Give me beer, the in-laws are here."

But Todd makes sure my real Christmas gifts are AMAZING.

He's always given good gifts .

When we were seventeen, and my friends had already received polo sweaters, the newest go go's, vinyl record, or Gloria Vanderbilt jeans from their boyfriends, Todd surprised me with a traditional Eskimo grass woven basket, and Alaskan gold nugget earrings, from a native village near his home town. (A seventeen year old was happy with a grass woven basket?)

In that tradition he has since given me a beautiful red manual ice auger, for ice fishing on the lake, a 30-06 rifle, a pair of hockey skates, snowshoes for hardcore winter workouts, and cords of winter spruce for my fireplace. I so appreciate that one, as I have an affinity for chopping, and stacking my own wood. (Okay my bullshit detector just burst into flames.)

As the old saying goes, "Chop your own wood, and it will warm you twice."

Wow and just when you thought Palin might be running a little low on mooseshit.

I have been around habitual liars before but this idiot takes the cake.