Darren Rovell, CNBC's Sports Biz guy, passed the 100,000 follower mark on Twitter Wednesday and celebrated by bestowing upon his readers the 100 rules to live by on the social media platform. He cares a lot for those latter 50,000 followers because it's roughly 770-percent more work than he put into celebrating the 50,000 follower mark back in January, and delves much deeper into the nuances of being a "successful" tweeter.

Assuming you are on Twitter, you will realize while reading through Rovell's Twitter Rules that you've likely broken at least a few of them and unfollowed others for doing the same thing. That's normal, I think.

However, if you're reading through Rovell's Twitter Rules and thinking after every other rule, "Really, I'm not allowed to do that??" then you should probably reconsider your life what it is you're doing on Twitter. That's not to say that you should be sentenced to a lifetime in Twitter Jail; Twitter can still be a valuable service to you, even if you're not exactly returning the favor.

Rovell's Twitter Rules are really just his own, not Gospel. Sure, following a lot of these rules will help you accumulate, retain, and entertain some followers, but they will also likely never help you to reach Rovell's status of 100,000 followers (you would also need a high-profile job at some place like CNBC as a Sports Business Reporter).

HAVING SAID THAT, I've decided to waste time responding to each of Rovell's Twitter Rules, infusing my own Twitter experiences, feelings, and utter sarcasm. I think it provides a little bit more of a realistic glimpse into Twitter for the average tweeter because, after all, we're not as cool as Darren Rovell or Oprah, and I'd say the 2008 Lions have better odds of winning a game than most of us do at accumulating their kind of followings on Twitter.

Ed.: Plenty of naughty words to follow, as is par with the course for Kenny Powers. Don't say I didn't warn you.

That's right, I'm back bitches. You might remember me from the greatest fucking blog post ever that I wrote last year, or from the last porn video you watched. You decide. Anyway, those butt buddies Bob and Rob asked me to come back to this shitty site to write some garbage about the Tigers, but instead I'm gonna make a big fucking announcement: Kenny "You're God damn right it's me" Powers is now the MFCEO of K-Swiss sneaker company. Check out my video press conference in full.

Now go ahead and clean out your shorts, guys. Don't be embarrassed, I still shoot one off after watching that magic unfold. You probably won't see me around this sausage fest anymore because I'm gonna be turning that company into the best damn athletic shoe maker in the universe. Jordans? Yeah right. Soon all those hot fuckin' suburban moms are gonna be buying my shoes for their kids while they think about getting into my pants. I'm gonna be living even larger than I already do, no thanks to these D4L assholes. I'm out.

And yes, that title is just as suggestive as it sounds. Thankfully, I don't work for Yahoo so I can make all the jokes I want about the Mrs. Joe Flacco acting as center for her new hubby.

Of course, I could go the other way and also hint at the fact that Joe seems to prefer 300 lb. men on all fours in front of him, but that would be too easy. Instead, since we're probably not going to see much of the Ravens this season, both Joe and his beloved will have plenty of time to practice handling snaps in the near future.

Oh, and since we're on the topic: a very happy first anniversary to the man, the myth, the legend, Mr. Bobby Biscigliano and his Mrs.

If there's one thing I've learned from Entourage, it's that pretending to be a douchey New Yorker doesn't mean that you automatically have rapping skills. Case in point? This girl (who isn't officially anything, other than bad). [NSFW language]

I sent this to my friend "Colin," a lifelong Yankees fan from New Jersey, and asked him how embarrassed he was to be a Yankees fan with this broad patrolling the internets. Since he responded with this picture (note: not embedded to prevent you from puking all over your computer screen), we can assume that she's not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.

Still, you would think the Yankees could shell out some dough for a woman who can actually put it down behind the mic.

Of course, the fact that they're from Boston might be why New York had to settle for what they got.

[Bro Bible]

No, it's not Sunday and no, there's nothing to be depressed about (well, unless your life sucks, but then you have all the more reason to keep reading). Still, we're all about bucking the trend here at D4L (we've been doing it since 2006, bitches) so we're going to celebrate Friday with the amazing Candice Swanepoel. Plus, I've been studying for an obscene amount of time over the past two days, so I needed a pick-me-up. Enjoy (but probably not at work).

More Candice after the jump...

When older people question the future of our society, show them this video and say "It's already pretty fucked up, there's not much worse we can do." That should shut those pricks up pretty quickly.

And for the greedy bitch that would rather have a $5 baseball than worry about the feelings of a small child? Just remember that gingers do, in fact, have souls.

[The Buzz]

Sadly, this photo popped into my e-mail inbox yesterday, along with the subject line "Whose Side Are You On?"

Seriously, could the MLB have picked two worse players for this "debate?" Jonathan Papelbon might be the biggest douchebag in the entire league... until you consider the fact that Nick Swisher went to Ohio State (and probably sold all of his shit soon after). Not to mention, these guys play for the two most-hated teams in baseball. Well, other than the Cubs, of course. Stop bitching, Chicago.

As promised, the meat and potatoes of this post is Shakira shaking her timeless Colombian behind in her new music video. There's no naughty bits, but I'd still use caution when watching this at work. You know, unless you have a co-worker that looks like Shakira. In that case, fantasize away my friend.

Kudos to the director for not even bothering to put Pitbull in the video. He (or she, you never know) knows what's up.

[Barstool Sports]

Maybe ESPN has already realized that both the NBA and NHL Finals are a total joke this year, but I'm willing to bet someone is going to get a talking-to tomorrow morning for this one.

And if that wasn't enough, the clever bastard writing these headlines got even more daring.

Apparently somebody said something after this one, because headline #3 of the night is a bit more tame.

UPDATE: Not as risque as earlier, but at least the foreplay is over.

UPDATE 2: Aaaaaand the clincher.

We'll continue to update if any more magic happens (though links to screenshots would be appreciated in the comments)

First, watch:

Thoughts/Observations:

• Clearly, Rampage has been hit in the head a few too many times. I'm not talking about his propensity to hump reporters, but rather the fact that I can't understand what the fuck he's saying. He sounds like the dude from Waterboy out there.

• In his defense, I'd motorboat her too.

• Seriously Karyn, it's pay per view, just pull them out for us.

• "Black folk luh me" is an instant classic.

• If ESPN could air an interview where someone says "Jamaican me horny," their ratings would skyrocket.

• I don't know what the "Nipple Dance" is, but I'm not too sure I want to see it from Rampage.

This might be the greatest interview of all time.

[Deadspin]