Here is the loverboy of the wingnuts going on about the majority of the human race:
From the November 30 broadcast of Premiere Radio Networks' The Rush Limbaugh Show:
LIMBAUGH: My cat -- here's how you can get fooled. My cat comes to me when she wants to be fed. I have learned this. I accept it for what it is. Many people in my position would think my cat's coming to me because she loves me. Well, she likes me, and she is attached, but she comes to me when she wants to be fed. And after I feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. She's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. She's actually a very smart cat. She gets loved. She gets adoration. She gets petted. She gets fed. And she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why I say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life. But we put voices in their mouths.
Bolds mine.
My rule about insulting people is that I try not to do that, except in self-defence, and then all stops are pulled. So here it goes:
Rush Limbaugh is something that accidentally crawled out of the primal slime. Accidentally, because his bits and pieces never fit quite right and he never lost the fat and swollen shape of a slimeball. Accidentally, because whatever might have created the slime in the first place forgot to insert a few human codifiers into this particular gunk of stinky snot, things such as conscience, empathy and manners. Or the ability to ever get it up except by looking at torture pictures or snaps of Big Macs.
Rush Limbaugh is an ugly, self-centered, addicted piece of crap. I bet he eats his own dingleberries during those long and lonely nights when none of his ex-wives will talk to him when he calls to whine.