So it would seem that everything nowadays has the ability to connect to Twitter and auto-update for you.
This is one of the signs of the impending apocalypse.
I actually own a scale that tweets my weight whenever I step on it.
I don’t step on this scale often.
Foursquare has the ability to post updates to Twitter whenever you check in anywhere. The problem though, is that the majority of us are doing it wrong. And by “doing it wrong” I mean “driving everyone else crazy.”
Five rules to follow if you decide to make the holy matrimony of Twitter and FourSquare:
1) Turn off the “DM your friends every time you check in,” or you’ll find yourself with no friends. I don’t need to get a Direct Message from you that you’re at Starbucks. EVER.
2) I don’t need to get a regular update that you’re at Starbucks, either. Turn off the feature that auto-updates to Twitter and Facebook for each hit.
3) The “Send to Twitter” feature should be used very, very sparingly, like Paprika. Twitter is like a ringmaster with a bullhorn that announces whatever you tell it. That makes you, by association, the announcer. If the announcer is boring, people will leave the circus. Keep people in your circus by only sending things to Twitter that actually have value. (I.e., “Springsteen just pulled me up on stage with him to dance to “Dancing in the Dark!” (@Meadowlands Arena) as opposed to “standing on line at Starbucks ordering a venti chai.
4) You’re not as funny as you think you are. EVER. Tattoo this backwards on your forehead. Going out for drinks and checking in as you’re walking past a small dog is not funny.
5) Finally, remember the adage “too much of a good thing isn’t a good thing.” Forward check-ins sparingly. Never check in publicly at someone’s house/apartment/home unless you have specific permission from them. And never forget – It’s out there for all time. Checking in at the Hustler Club with the shout “Stopped by the ATM for a bunch of Twenties!” might seem funny as hell on a Saturday night at 11:30 after countless drinks. It won’t seem anywhere near as funny Monday morning, when it’s been favorited by your boss or girlfriend. Or both.The Home of Peter Shankman