It appears that I'm not the only one taking issue with Eater and The Weekly's accusation that Clooney's isn't a really a dive bar.  Doug of Ice Tubes writes:

Yo, after seeing your post on Clooney's I sent the link to my friend who practically lives there. He (pretty quickly) sent me back the attached photo of a dog drinking a beer at the bar, which he saw two nights ago. “Watched this mutt sit at the bar and lap down a half pint of stella (apparently the only beer he'll drink) and proceed to stumble off the stool onto the ground.”

And if stumbling-drunk pups doesn't convince you, the comment thread from Tuesday's post is still going strong, with people pointing towards your freedom to pass out on the bar (a personal favorite of mine) or access to “local talent” as proof of its dive status. However, Vulcan Tits really hits it home:

The first time I went to Clooney's a buddy and I wanted to shoot pool on a Sunday afternoon. We walk in the door, and the sixty-ish bartender immediately yells the following at us from across the bar:

“If you want to have a mother/daughter bartending threesome then you came to the right place”. It went downhill (uphill?) from there.