Balls to that. They're paid based on how vital they are to an organization for whom they demonstrably make much, much more money than they're paid. Professional athletes are, in most cases, rather underpaid in comparison to the amount of money that they make for their bosses.

Because she didn't trust him, which she obviously shouldn't have. :P

Blacks voted 88% for Kerry, it's not -that- big of a shift, and a lot of it has to do with new voter registrations, as well - new voters were pretty consistently pro-Obama.

The Fnords were spinning in their graves. The goddess felt this and appeared before them.
"Fnords, why must you pester me so?" she questioned.
"Madam!" one exclaimed, "At first we thought we were fucking with you, we have now realized that it is you who fucks with us!"
The goddess frowned.
"If it were your fate to state the obvious I wouldn't have visited you."
The Fnords spoke amongst themselves as Eris folded her arms in disapproval.
"Whatever it is you demand from us, goddess, shall be yours."
"I don't *demand* anything of you mongrels!!" she scolded.
This confused the hell out of the Fnords and they stood speechless. With a flick of her toenail, Eris evaporated into the night.
The goddess returned to her post and began prodding her pineal gland.
"It's got to be here somewhere", she muttered.
Moments later the ecstatic shrieks of The Prettiest One interrupted the sleep of dozens of rabid canines. She opened her eyes, re-enlightened, and energetic. Her nose tasted the air, something strange and unknown tickled her senses and she started forward to investigate. Treaching through her garden of snail shells and orange peels was a pack of cat-sized dogs, sniffing and poking where they hadn't belonged. The goddess raised an eyebrow, whispered a vulgarity, and turned away for a walk.
In the wake of The Prettiest One lay the hollowed carcasses of her beastly visitors.