I Used to Like FourSquare, When it Was a Recess Game.

Since I'm a critically acclaimed and uber-famous reviewer of bars, some of my dedicated readers (ahem, my mom) wondered if I'd be interested in FourSquare, you know, for my journalism. In case all you other dedicated readers (still Mom) are wondering, here are my thoughts:

FourSquare is great for people who like getting robbed.

And it's just like Loopt. Eventually people realize it's a little creepy to just let everyone know where you are all the time. The people who don't find it creepy are most likely the same dudes looking for hookups on Craigslist. Not me. Plus, why should we make it this easy for all the stalkers out there? Where's the art? Where's hair dolls and love poetry written on swatches of clothing you used to own and thought had lost?

I'd love to hear what you guys think about these simplified stalking tools and if you're using them. If not--I'm at my kitchen table right working from home, so don't even think about robbing me. If you're my Mom, though, you can def. send some cookies.

Go Apeshit.

I'm just saying, Damon Albarn's group Gorillaz are back after a five years and the preview track on their site featuring Bobby Womack and Mos Def (swizzoooon) is awesomeville, USA. It has bits of eighties synthpop, a little Cee-lo sound without being as sickeningly overplayed (well, yet) and smooth singing over a beat I can't wait to hear in the clubs. Assuming, that is, that DJs find out about it, and I ever leave the house. We shall see.

Album's out in 20 days and 10 hrs, according to the countdown on their site. But, of course, you can pay for the single on iTunes ahora mismo.

When I Grow Up: Music Executive

Welcome to a new series called "When I Grow Up." Herein, I will explore other careers I could have, because I have brilliant ideas that should fetch me millions of dollars.

Today? Music industry exec.
Idea? Santi-Gaga.

If I were a music exec today, I'd sent Santigold and Lady Gaga on dual-headliner tour. I'd have some sick producer make mashups of their songs like "My Name Is Anne I Want Your Bad Romance," and "All About Les Artistes."

When did I get this amazing club-hit-meets-hipster-hop genre killing, girl power on a hundred idea? Oh you know, walking to work. Having both gals stuck in my head at once. And let me tell you, I'd buy tickets.

Well, if I weren't the exec, that is.

Live Blogging: VH1's Top Videos of 2009 (29 - Uh Oh)

#29: Run This Town: Is this 300? Jay-Z is working his best Facebook Pout and Rihanna has the "I Can't Sing At All" scream going, which can only mean one thing: Billboard #1 hit. I don't know, there's a lot of ambiguous "rebel" outfits, from bandanas on faces to black mesh eyewear. I guess I don't get it. There's no apocolypse, and if there was, I don't see what Jay-Z and Ri-ri would have to do with it.

#28: Oh shit, Pink is still around? That's it.

Yeah, Pink is still around and still has the same affect on me as always - her excessively theatrical video and vaguely melodic whining has driven me to leave the room. I guess I'll have to catch the rest of this countdown on one of it's billiondy reruns.

Live Blogging: VH1's Top Videos of 2009 (40 - 30)

I'm starting with Pearl Jam at #39, because #40 was (who cares) Muse. Blah blah British alt-rock and angry teddy bears blah.

It's fitting that PJ's video was directed by Cameron Crowe--both he and the subject can exploit this 'I peaked in the '90s but won't give up' gumption, and it's even more fitting that the whole video is comprised of the thicker-in-the-middle members performing in a dive bar, the only place anyone hears Pearl Jam songs anymore.

38 - Creed - Something vaguely about Jesus and mostly about coming up against demons. Shouldn't even be on the countdown, but I guess middle America still exists. (Same goes for car-keying Carrie Underwood coming in at #37. Blond, accentuated twang and bust-region. Zzzz.).

And here's where you stop reading: I kind of like Rob Thomas, in at #36. He's like grownup Jason Mraz with his optimistic tunes that only touch on his deep-down-identity of a sad guitar guy. This vid makes you want to believe that life really is like parade-time Manhattan with peace marches, hippie buses and aviator glasses for all.

Foo Fighters? What is this best of 1997? The talking heads say Foo don't need to bring the silly in this video, that the straightforward performance speaks for itself. I want to agree because I'm a longtime Foo appreciator (I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a fan) but the Wheels Come Off video looks and sounds sort of like they're giving up. It's like old dude rock. Tame. And, yes, I realize that sentence has zero credibility after admitting to liking Rob Thomas.

34, Whitney's new album is a comeback in the sense that it makes me want to come back and listen to "I Will Always Love You" again. Million Dollar Bill, though? Not so much. Crack is whack, and Whit's now gravelly voice will never be able to fly like it once did. The video, since that's what this is about, has a cool Tina Turner in a teeny sequin dress vibe, which is alright.

#33, John Mayer - another attempted NYC anthem - but it ends up looking like a night out in LA. Too many skinny blonds in unnecessary scarves and people never taking off their sunglasses. That's not New York, John Mayer. I also think the precarious bridge walk is a little too much. Most people, on a cool night out in New York, don't lean over the edge of the Williamsburg bridge for a few pensive minutes before jumping into a pool with their clothes on.

#32, Happy by Leona Lewis. There's a cool movie quality to this video. The bride-switching gag is kind of clever, and let's be honest, Leona is dead-fucking-sexy. I could stare at her in the heather grey off-the-shoulder sweatshirt for at least the duration of this song. Which is also just OK.

#31: Plain White T's "1,2,3,4." I love the When Harry Met Sally device used in this video. You see all these real couples and you read a little caption with their love stories like "took him 9 months to ask her out," or "married 27 years." At the end you meet the singer's girlfriend and read that the song was written for her. Sweet and simple. Which is a nice lead in to #30.

Mariah Carey looking hids in drag. Um, take that, Eminem?

Make Ya Say Mm

Rose scents can be a bit grandma-ish, I know. Or, as a friend put it, "a bit bowl-of-potpourri-in-the-bathroomish," but the Stella McCartney Eau de Parfum is a delightfully light floral spritz that I'm dying over right now.

My company hosted a party at the Stella store in New York's Meatpacking District and, of course, there were goody bags to be had. Inside? A tubular (literally and figuratively) roll-on of the scent, in a sultry black-to-purple ombre, like the full sized bottle shown. Throughout the event there was a pro-perfume spritzer infusing the air with the effervescent floral smell and I was immediately hooked. A schizophrenic perfume user (my collection ranges from a limey Jo Malone cologne, to Philosophy's laundry soap like spray, and beyond), I'm about ready to pull the plug on the other parfums and make this my signature scent.

Added bonus, the atomizer also helped when a fellow subway rider seemed to have soiled himself on my commute home. All I smelled was roses.

Where the Wild Things Are: Sneak Preview

Oh wait, that's Lady Gaga looking like a damn fool at the VMA's. Not gonna lie, I thought she sounded great in the live rendition of her paparazzi love/hate ballad. But her costumes looked like one major wardrobe malfunction after another. I also was not feeling the crazy wheelchair girl and bloody chest stunt. It looked like a mash-up of the True Blood season finale (disappointing) and an old Madonna performance (but way less good).