All the Presidents Men

Written by: Andrew McLean, The Reserve Clause (Twitter: @andrewsmclean)

When you’re young, your friends are either your parents’ friends’ children or the kids who live closest to you. And, as a parent, it makes sense. When you’re 3 years old, you’re not overly selective about who you eat dirt with.

The first “best friend” I can remember was named C.J. I couldn’t tell you anything about him. Not his last name. Not his hair color. Not what, if anything, the initials C.J. stood for. Nothing. Except that he lived a block and a half away from me. Then he moved. So my next best friend was Ryan, who lived a block over.

As you get a little older and enter elementary school, you gain a slightly greater freedom of choice over your friends. That weird kid who pulls out his own hair on the bus? Pass. The scabies brothers? Think I’ll keep my distance. But standards are still relatively low. Sure Derek poops his pants a couple times a month, but he also has the coolest mini-football, complete with built-in whistle for full effect. I can live with the smell.

If it wasn't for the Vortex, Derek would be hanging out with the hair muncher.

And as you make your way through school, you become more and more selective about your friends, increasingly choosing those whose interests match your own. With the addition of a driver’s licenses at 16 and landing your first job, which means money that is solely your own, your world expands once again.

Post-high school, be it college or the real world, sees the last of those reins broken, where you enjoy the total freedom to spend time with whoever you choose. This is a very important part in anyone’s life, where good decisions can benefit you for the rest of your life, or poor decisions can haunt you for just as long.

That’s why I’m here to help. While I don’t claim to be an expert on social skills (seriously, check my Twitter feed), I do have a little insight I can share. Everyone wants to experience power in their lives, so to me there’s no better model than the most powerful man in the free world, the President of the United States himself.

One of the most important things a President tackles upon election is the creation of his Presidential Cabinet. The goal of this exercise is to create a well-balanced group, one devoid of weakness (or at least a fatal flaw). If the President is weaker on foreign affairs, he selects an especially experienced Secretary of State.

To me, it’s only logical that we apply this same philosophy to selecting our friends. Sure it’s great to hang out with sports fans when you’re a sports fan, but that doesn’t make for a well-balanced group devoid of fatal flaws. You need to cover your weaknesses.

So let’s begin. What are your areas of vulnerability? Maybe you don’t know shit about cars. Then you’ll need a car guy. Your neighbor Don changes his own oil – make friends. What if you need to move sometime? Your cousin Eddie’s got a truck – get back in touch. Hate doing your taxes? Take a stroll through the accounting department and start laughing at Phillip’s boring jokes.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t hang out with other sports fans if you’re a sports fan yourself, but that can’t be the sole reason. What happens if you’re coming home from a game and your radiator overheats? What are you going to do then?

What if you’re buying a massive grill for a Super Bowl party and don’t want to pay the exorbitant delivery charges? You’re not getting it home in your Jetta.

Sure his burps are flammable (and he'll prove it from time to time),
but Eddie's ability to haul huge shit makes it all worth it. 

What happens when you get notice of an audit from the IRS and would rather avoid jail time if at all possible? It’s too late to befriend boring Phillip. He’ll be on to your motives by then.

While being able to talk about the best ways for a secondary to defend screen passes is all well and good, I contend not being stuck on the side of the road, not unnecessarily shelling out a wad of your hard-earned cash and not being charged with tax fraud is even better.

So take an objective look at those around you. Go to your Facebook page. Scroll through your friends. Do you have your Don, your Eddie, your Phillip? If not, it’s time to get to work assembling your Friend Cabinet. You’ll thank me when you buy that massive grill.

Top 10 Albums of 2011

Written by: Andrew McLean, The Reserve Clause (Twitter: @andrewsmclean)

You may have wondered where we've been. I know, this blog has been more ignored than a scandal at Penn State. But worry not, we've just been hunkered down, listening to every single album released over the past year – ignoring family, friends and mandatory court dates. And all for you, dear reader.

#1 – TV on the Radio – Nine Types of Light

A great album from a band increasingly known for great albums. For my money, there's not a more energetic, creative group going today.

Favorite song: Caffeinated Consciousness

#2 – Say Hi – um, uh oh

This album shows a ton of range, and Say Hi is my favorite discovery of the year. Only took me 7 studio albums (and a name change - dropping the terrible "to Your Mom") for me to take notice. Not bad.


Favorite song: Devils

#3 – Sam Roberts – Collider


This was also my favorite concert of the year. Bad news: there was a criminally small crowd. Good news: it resulted in an amazing, intimate atmosphere and one hell of a show.

Favorite song: Partition Blues (though not the most "single"-friendly song on the album)

#4 – Adele – 21

I know this isn't the "coolest" pick I could make, but this is a stellar album and this chick can belt it.

Favorite song: Rolling in the Deep

#5 – Jay-Z & Kanye West – Watch the Throne

While disappointing compared to what it could have been, it's still a quality release with some really good stuff.

Favorite song: Otis

#6 – Big Sean – Finally Famous: The Album

A very promising debut from another member of Kanye's stable of artists.


#7 – Radiohead – The King of Limbs

Only rated lower because they've put out so much good stuff, this unfairly gets held to ridiculous high standards.


#8 – Black Keys – El Camino

I'm glad to see this Ohio duo working with Danger Mouse again, as I felt Brothers was a step back from Attack & Release (although I realize I'm likely in the minority on this). This one could move up the list on repeated listens.


#9 – Childish Gambino – Camp

Another promising hip hop debut, from a multi-talented dude - Donald Glover of Community fame.


#10 – Decemberists - The King is Dead

I love the turn they took with their sound, embracing a more country sound.


In addition to the songs above, a couple other tracks I really liked over the past year include:

Das Racist – Michael Jackson

Gotye – Somebody That I Used to Know

Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi (ft Jack White) – Two Against One



Did I miss anything? Let me know in the Comments below.

Scarlett Johansson Nude!

By: Zach Hammer, The Reserve Clause

That title alone should set a new record for most hits on a single article. (Currently my Stadium Food piece, for those wondering.)

Wednesdays are the worst. While Mondays get all the bad rap, at least there are the great stories from the weekend to share. Like the one where your buddy tells you how he met this questionable chick, brought her back to his place, only to find his roommate had brought the same chick back to the same apartment the night before. Or about the time you left your phone in a cab, only to have the FBI show up at your door for supplying communication devices to known terrorist organizations.

But Wednesdays don’t have anything like that. No one has wild Tuesday nights. Well, only alcoholics, and no one listens to stories from alcoholics because at some point they stop being funny and start getting depressing. Unless he pees himself. Then it’s funny again.

Wednesdays aren’t close enough to the last weekend and not yet close enough to the next one. They’re when we need a nice pick-me-up the most. Well, this Wednesday came through. By mid-morning, the Twitter world was abuzz with talk of Scarlett Johansson nude pictures. God must have finally heard my prayers! On a scale of 1 to 10 of celebrities we most needed a good leaked nude photo of, SJ is a 37.

This little gift from above got me thinking. Is there anything better than Scarlett Johansson nude? After some serious soul searching, I decided no. Need some proof. Well, because this is a PG 13 site, I won’t share the pictures here. (Seriously, it’s called Google, go use it yourself). But I will give you five awesome things that aren’t even as awesome as Scarlett Johansson nude.

1. Playing Madden ‘12 with Bill Belichick

For some reason, the 18-25 demographic continues to line up at video game stores for hours in anticipation of the latest installment of Madden. Why? No clue. Maybe it’s the excitement of the two minor tweaks that the folks over at EA added to this year’s game. Maybe these booger-eaters just have no plans for Friday nights and just stocked up on a bulk purchase of Cheetos.

While I’m at a bit of a loss when explaining the Madden phenomenon, if you’re going to spend time coaching up a bunch of pixels, why not compete against the cream of the crop? And anyone who didn’t already think “The Hoodie” was the best in the business needs to watch NFL Films’ “A Football Life”, following Bill Belichick through the 2009 season. This guys never stops coaching, which is what would make it that much cooler to beat his ass repeate with the “Annexation of Puerto Rico”. BOOM!

2. Throw a 100mph fastball in an appearance as the opening pitch guy.

I for one am sick and tired of MLB teams bringing out these novelty honorary first pitch people who have zero arm. This is the great American pastime that we’re talking about. Everyone should be able to put a little zing on a baseball. (Don't believe me? Check out the video below. Number 2 was definitely robbed of the top spot.)

Now imagine someone like Henry Rowengartner skipping out to the mound to open up a game. Most unsuspecting fans would find it cute that a Little Leaguer is going to try and throw from 60-feet, but what if he rears back and lets one absolutely rip? How awesome would that be? Most of the bullpen catchers who catch the first pitch don’t even wear protective equipment. Imagine the horror and attention that the pitcher would get if he smashed the catcher’s face? Would the catcher still smile and sign the baseball? Who really cares about a signed baseball from a guy who would be selling life insurance after the season anyway? Nobody, but they would care about the ringer who went from throwing the ceremonial first pitch to getting a spot in the rotation.

3. Running a drunk 40-yd dash, on concrete, outside of a major tourist attraction.

You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, as I’ve done it and it was awesome. I ran a 5.13 by the way, but I’m pretty sure the timer was a step slow (he was drunk too, after all), and I puked afterward so I was obviously carrying unnecessary weight at the time.

4. Flying in a human squirrel suit

No explanation necessary here.

5. Being Adam Richman

Here is the guy that all men wish that they could be. He gets paid to be a total slob, the guy we’d all be if appearance and personal health didn’t matter. Believe it or not, Adam Richman is worth an estimated $8M. His job description entails travelling the country to stuff his fat face full of extremely unhealthy food in legendary portions. But who in their right mind wouldn’t sacrifice a little body weight for $8M?

I imagine only a fraction of you made it to the end without giving up on me and going to check out Ms. Johansson, but I thank those of you who did (or at least came back). Did I miss anything? If so, let me know in the Comments below.

Social Media Showdown - Gilbert Arenas vs. Joe Mande

Written by: Andrew McLean, The Reserve Clause (Twitter: @andrewsmclean)

This week offered one of the great Twitter battles I've had the pleasure of experiencing, Gilbert Arenas vs. Joe Mande. In case you missed it, I'd like to take a few minutes to give you the round-by-round breakdown of this epic match.

The Bios:

Gilbert Arenas (Twitter handle: @agentzeroshow) is an NBA player, perhaps most famous for brandishing a gun during a locker room argument over gambling debts with a teammate. History has since treated him kindly, as now that the other fine gentlemen in the little disagreement was just arrested for murder, Gilbert is now the less-crazy one of the two.

Joe Mande (Twitter handle: @joemande) is a comedian from New York City, appearing on VH1’s Best Week Ever and Comedy Central’s Live at Gotham. He’s a must-follow on Twitter, famous for his takedowns of moron celebrities such as Kim Kardashian, Jose Canseco and Russell Crowe.

The History:

This battle was all set up with Joe Mande’s awesome piece on Gilbert Arena’s various Twitter profile pictures. Before you go any further, read it. Then read it again.

In a shocker, Gilbert didn’t take too kindly to it, and the fight was on. Let’s get to the weigh-ins and get this battle started.

Tale of the Tape:

Gilbert Arenas – According to NBA.com, 6-foot-4, 215 pounds

Joe Mande – From photos, I’ll say 5-foot-6, 165 pounds (Editor's update: In an awesome turn of events, Joe himself has DM'd us to correct his measurements: "It's actually 5'9" 145". Sorry, Joe!)

Michael Buffer, take it away.

ROUND 1

Gilbert comes out of his corner aggressive, but without a lot of power:

@agentzeroshow: so i was write that the no talented joe mande wrote it

Mande is unfazed, countering with an early body shot (although not the cool kind off of hot chicks):

@joemande: Yes, you were 100% write.

ROUND 1 WINNER: MANDE. The scorecard now reads Mande 1, Gilbert 0. Early on we get a look at each fighter’s strategy. Gilbert plans to come out firing, with no regard for spelling, grammar or general intelligence. Mande is content to sit back and let Gilbert punch himself out, an ode to Muhammad Ali’s famed Rope-a-Dope strategy to take down the mighty George Foreman.

ROUND 2

Undeterred by his Round 1 beating, Gilbert charges back out.

@agentzeroshow: to be honest the funnest thing u said in the article was ur a comedian..i was on the floor laughn at that part

At this point, Mande must know the bout is over. If Gilbert’s total illiteracy didn’t spell defeat (or, according to Gilbert, "spell defete"), his middle-school comebacks certainly did. Mande lets up, allowing this fight to last a little longer.

@joemande: Oh, thx!

ROUND 2 WINNER: DRAW. Still Mande 1, Gilbert 0.

ROUND 3

Energized by his success (read: lack of total failure) from the last round, Arenas draws back and swings with all his might:

@agentzeroshow: If u were the normal jackass media i would have let it slide but ur not even good at ur job!!

This was the turning point in the battle, as Mande lands a monster roundhouse right:

@joemande: Look up your 10-11 stats.

(In case you’re curious, here are the stats in question.)

Down goes Gilbert! Down goes Gilbert! The ref stands above him and begins his 10 count. Five passes, and Arenas still lies on the canvas, struggling to regain his senses. The ref reaches 8, and Gilbert rolls to his knees and staggers up just before the 10 count.

ROUND 3 WINNER: MANDE. With that haymaker landed, the scorecard now shows Mande 2, Gilbert 0. Not sure how much longer this one can last.

ROUND 4

Gilbert is visibly woozy from the last round, coming out confused and disoriented:

@agentzeroshow: im only following u now joe..i dont wanna mess ur punchline"righttttttttt"

Mande continues his effective counterpunching:

@joemande: I don't want you to mess it, either. What?

After doing some quick research, Arenas is back with another gem:

@agentzeroshow: u charge 5 dollars a a tic lmaoooooo hookers charge more for jokes

Seeing the end is near, Mande again pulls back on the power, and lands a soft shot to the shoulder:

@joemande: Alright. But you're the one buying jokes from hookers.

ROUND 4 WINNER: MANDE. This one can’t last much longer. Either the ref is going to have to stop the fight or someone’s going to get hurt.

ROUND 5

At this point, I don’t even think Arenas knows where he is or what he’s saying. Coming out with this one, he proves my observation to be correct:

@agentzeroshow: i cant stop laughn..imma go back to my rm its almost 5 o'clock jackoff hr...

This is tough to watch. It’s like those terrible bum fights, but one of them is a trained UFC brawler. Mande sees the ref about the call the match, and winds up for his finisher:

@joemande: Have fun jacking off. And proving my point.

That’s it! This one’s over! The ref steps in and guides the tiny Mande to his corner.

Ladies and gentlemen, with a 5th Round Knockout, your champion, Joe Mande! Mande takes a few laps around the ring, thanking his cheering fans. Looking down at a beaten Gilbert Arenas, some remorse sets in.

Maybe this wasn’t a fair fight from the start. In one corner, you had a professional comedian, trained in wise-crack comments at celebrities’ expense on the mean streets of VH1. And in the other corner, you had a guy who could barely stay coherent for 140 characters.

Mande walked over to Gilbert, extended his hand, and helped him to his feet:

@joemande: Extending an olive branch to @agentzeroshow. You can do my show any time you're in NYC. Thursday nights at UCB-East. $5, hookers enter free.

With that, one of the most vicious beatdowns in all of social media ends with a touching moment. I, for one, hope Agent Zero takes him up on the offer. My prediction: Gilbert plays to a standing-room only crowd of scantily-dressed women, with a total paid gate of $10.

Hoop Dreams

Written by: Andrew McLean, The Reserve Clause (Twitter: @andrewsmclean)

If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be reading this right now. I’d be too busy training – taking jumper after jumper in the gym I built in my multi-million dollar mansion – to write this. But I’m not, so hey, I’ve got a few minutes for you guys.

Sorry, kids, it ain't happening. Start practicing your typing skills now. 

It’s always fascinating to hear an adult confess what they wanted to be “when they grew up”. On any given playground around the country, there are dozens of would-be astronauts, veterinarians and movie stars. In reality, when all is said and done, it turns out there were a lot more cashiers, receptionists and line cooks than originally planned. While all are valuable, important occupations, they clearly lack the glamour of most children’s dream jobs. But in all honesty, if a child grew up dreaming of punching a time clock, working for some guy in wrinkled Dockers and an ugly button-up shirt, I’d send them to therapy. That’s not normal.

As for me, I was going to be an NBA star. I’d be selected first overall in the draft and play center for the Detroit Pistons. In fifth grade when we were to predict where we’d be in 20 years, I wrote that I’d be playing alongside four of my elementary school buddies winning championship after championship.

But, really, I was just humoring my friends. I mean, with the odds stacked so much against making it to the pros, I’d have to drop them along the way. Nice knowin’ you, homies. Maybe you can visit my mansion sometime.

Dream caption: Bulls guard Michael Jordan (23 - left) takes comfort from teammate Scottie Pippen moments after Pistons phenom Andrew McLean (unpictured - too busy celebrating) dominates him once again.

So I practiced in my driveway every day, dreaming of playing alongside Isiah Thomas and Bill Laimbeer (clearly ignoring relative ages). The only thing that would break me out of my fantasies of schooling the great Air Jordan was the loud rattle of our cheap fiberglass garage door as I airballed 20-footers I just knew I could bury.

Airballs aside, and you’ll just have to trust me on this, I was a pretty decent player. Even as I began eating more than playing (or anything else it now seems) and ballooned in size, I could still play. Embarrassed as much by the prospect of not fitting into the jerseys as anything else, I never tried out for my middle school teams. But that wasn’t the end of my dreams. Who ever said a few games as a 13-year-old decided a career in professional sports? Hell, as the oft-told story goes, Michael Jordan didn’t even make his Junior Varsity team.

Several knee injuries through my early teen years further slowed my progress (except in my waist size, as I was progressing at lightning speed there). With these setbacks, I realized a career as the Pistons’ franchise center wasn’t quite as attainable as I once thought. From what I observed, and trust me that I kept close watch, there weren’t many slow, 6’3” centers with bad knees getting drafted, never mind first overall.

So my dreams of basketball stardom dropped from the pros to college. In its new incarnation, my dream had me shocking everyone, this no-name walk-on who only played because the star player suffered some catastrophic injury (don’t worry – he may be able to walk again one day). The season seemed over, that is, until #3, Andy McLean (yeah, still Andy at that point), stepped on the court and started dropping threes, killing the competition with and-1 drives where I would just get leveled and get up like it was nothing. Like Dwyane Wade, minus the wheelchair. The announcers would compare my toughness to the legendary Brett Favre – no Brett Favre would start being compared to me.

Well, needless to say, I single-handedly carry my dark horse school (yet undecided, but it really didn’t matter) through the Big Dance, hoisting the championship trophy in early April and winning the Tournament MVP in the process. Yes, that would be my dream. (For sports fans, think an even less athletic Gerry McNamara – far-fetched, to be sure.)

But, apparently, if you only play once every couple months, your skills begin to diminish. Who knew? So as the years went on (complete with additional knee injuries here and there for good measure), I enrolled in college at Western Michigan University knowing I wasn’t ever going to step foot on the court as anything other than a fan.

By sophomore year, I saw my brother Nick after months of being away, and the guy had dropped probably 80 pounds, making me the fat brother. If some distant cousins were trying to remember which of us was Nick and which was Andy, I pictured them recalling, “Oh yeah, Andy is the fat one. Andy like candy. Nick like quick.” And with that, I knew it was time to lose some weight.

So I worked extremely hard, determined not to be the fat brother. I suppose it would have been easier to sabotage him, but sneaking Snickers bars into turkey sandwiches on wheat bread is even tougher than it sounds.

Now a comparatively-svelte 210 pounds, I began to play basketball at Western’s rec center more, slowly chipping away the years of rust. My dreams of basketball domination were once again adjusted, this time from college phenom to rec center star. I’d show up, still looking soft and undefined, surely not like a player to worry about, and take over the game. While I had long ago given up the dream of being able to dunk a ball, I could still take over a game with killer jumpers and dazzling passes, showing off my impeccable basketball IQ.

Playing occasionally, I quickly realized that some of the other players’ athleticism was too much for me. While I held my own in half-court games, full-court was always a game of fast breaks. With shaky knees I had accepted as mine for the rest of my life, I couldn’t envision waking up one morning with newly-acquired blazing speed.

In my junior and senior years, I learned the game of racquetball, briefly flirting with the dream of going pro there instead, until I realized a pro racquetballplayer probably didn't exist, and if it does, was about as glamorous as a school bus driver (with apologies to those brave souls).

So I graduated from Western, and my dream of being a rec center star left with me.

Future caption: Andrew McLean (34 - front row, second from left) took the Kalamazoo YMCA league by storm with his superior skills, until he was permanently banned from the premises following an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction caused by his inappropriately short-shorts.

These days, with a life more rich than I could have ever dreamt of as a fifth-grader, I still house my hoop dreams deep down. At this point, they've been relegated to dominating half-court games at the local YMCA. Yes, it’s come to fantasizing about draining shots over 5-foot-tall, bald accountants wearing jean shorts and knee-high socks, but it’s my dream, dammit!

And maybe one day I can pass these dreams on to my sons, forcing them to attempt to accomplish what I never could. And isn't that what being a parent is all about?

Summer Music Festival Wrap-up

It's always a sad day when the weather starts to cool off and the sun goes away at 5pm. Here in Chicago, the only thing that can prepare me for winter is to put on my snow suit and stand in front of a max speed fan for a few hours. But what better way to pay homage to summer more than sharing some of the highlights of the summer concert festival that was? From Pitchfork to Coachella to Lollapalooza, I have compiled a playlist of some of the best performances of the summer, spanning the country. Enjoy, you uncivilized heathens:

It's a Sunday morning, that means we all need to get ourselves out of bed and actually do something with ourselves today. My plan? Maybe go to the driving range or something. Grammy Award winning artists, Arcade Fire got everyone's attention at Coachella this year with their closing number "Wake Up". Even though I'm not entirely sure that Win Butler isn't actually Two Face, he and his band sure can rock. Who would have ever thought that a band comprised mostly of strings could sound this b? 

Just because I like my readers, I thought that I would give you a double shot of Wiz Khalifa. Maybe I'm biased because Wiz hails from my home state, but he's still one of the best new rappers in the game. Personally, Wiz should have probably been slated to play at night just so we could see the mushroom cloud of  smoke hovering over the crowd. Regardless of how inebriated the crowd and/or Wiz were when this show went down, it's a shame that I couldn't get to Cali for this show.

Delta Spirit is a band that really should just release new material in time for summer. In this video, they play the summer anthem, "Trash Can" at this year's Lollapalooza festival. Some of the talent at Lollapalooza has dipped slightly, but Delta Spirit has to be considered a pure speculation pick. Having them play at a festival like Lolla is kind of like taking an undrafted rookie running back in the late rounds of a draft, then having him blow up and lead the league in rushing (see Arian Foster). Most people aren't quite sure of what they're going to get, but as soon as you put them in the lineup, they make your team (festival) miles better. Here's looking at you, Delta Spirit--you just rushed for 1,600 yards.

Last but certainly not least, my favorite performance of the entire summer festival series--"Wide Eyes" by Local Natives. I may be a little biased here too, as I've seen these guys on a few occasions and let me tell you, they can blow the roof off the place. Somewhere, David Crosby is crying tears of joy that another Laurel Canyon band is proudly carrying the torch of the great LA bands that came before them. Let's not forget that Taylor Rice has maybe the coolest moustache in the business.

I'm sure that I missed some great performances. If you see a glaring weakness in any of my favorites, let me know. 

Top Tweets of the Week (August 22-27)

Written by: Zach Hammer, The Reserve Clause

First thing's first: I'm not stupid. I know that a week isn't just five days, but when you sit at work all day waiting on your TweetDeck timeline to update so you can fight your way through, that IS your week. Technically, the weekend is just a time to consume way too stale beer and find the best $1 pizza slice that the city offers. Now that that whole mess is settled, let's jump into it. 

I'm breaking this down in descending order (that means that it goes backward from 5 to 1, just in case you needed a definition).

5. @KjMcGarr: “Irene” was the go code in Black Hawk Down.”

-What a movie! There is nothing like Josh Hartnett leading men to save Jeremy Piven's dumbass. It all could have been avoided if Piven simply knew how to fly a damn helicopter. I flew a helicopter in my friend Aaron's house last week and I must say--it isn't that difficult. C'mon Piven, you're Ari Gold for god's sake...you're better than that. Regardless of his flying inadequacies, I have to do it: 

Matthews: "All units, Irene. I say again, Irene!"

Durant: "Fu**in' Irene!"

4. @Rosenberg_Mike: “The government has asked several hundred thousand people to leave New York City. That is long overdue.”

-Is there a single city in the world that could possibly better itself anymore by getting several hundred thousand people the hell out of dodge more than NYC? I love the city--perhaps the greatest city on earth, but my estimates put the amount of "I Heart NYC" vendors somewhere around "several hundred thousand". The world would be a much better place if we didn't have to see someone from Iowa City wearing one of these shirts while working on their cattle farm.

3. @JimCarrey: "My avatar is the eye in a self-portrait called 'What Have You Don?' an unavoidable question u ask yrslf when u take any creative risk.?;P"

-Someone should probably tell Ace Ventura that the only reason that he has so many followers is that people are obsessed with his fall from grace. Seriously, who in their right mind puts out an Emma Stone infatuation video with the hope that people actually think that it's a joke? Oh, the Mask, you really are a beauty. Your movies haven't been relevant since you wore Gack on your face and fought crime. But you're really, really rich, so if I were you, I'd just continue to think that people actually care about you.

2. @ericstonestreet: "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom! Mom watch. Mom. Mom watch this. Mom. Mom. Mom watch! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom watch this.'--how I get a hot mom's attention at a pool."

-Man, this guy has way too few followers. Stonestreet is the anchor of the popular comedy show, Modern Family. He plays the overweight, extremely feminine Cameron and kills every single episode. Aside from MF being the best sitcom on TV right now, Stonestreet is a stupid hilarious tweeter. All tweeting aside, he might have come up with the most brilliant pickup line in history. What kind of woman doesn't get turned on by a grown man pulling off the perfect can-opener? I'll have the results of this pickup line back to you very soon. 

1. @TheCousinSal: "I will miss my Uncle Frank dearly. A great man, friend, comedian. Please enjoy this classic: Uncle Frank"

-Listen, not all top tweets have to be about fart jokes or infatuation issues (insert Carrey joke here). The great Uncle Frank from the Jimmy Kimmel Show passed away this week. Uncle Frank was a former NYPD officer and in his 20 years of service he was known to have only arrested 6 people. Rather, his thought was that a good lecturing did just as much to change the minds of criminals. As one of maybe ten fans of the show, it certainly is sad to see him go. God speed, Uncle Frank!

An Open Letter to My Retired Neighbors

Written by: Andrew McLean, The Reserve Clause


Dear Retired Neighbors:

Stop it. You’re killing my dreams, making me question all my life goals.

I’m getting ahead of myself though, so allow me to back up a bit. It’s not that I don’t like you. Quite the contrary. You actually seem like perfectly pleasant people, although in the four years since I moved in, neither of us can realistically be accused of being overly social to one another. But that’s okay. I’m not really a stop-and-talk-about-the-weather kind of guy anyway.

And I genuinely enjoy my neighborhood. It’s mostly quiet and peaceful, a good place to raise my two boys. But there are a lot of retirees, an unusual amount for the three short blocks that make up my little neck of the woods. If my hometown named neighborhoods like New York City, I’d live in Little Boca Raton.

So let me just lay it out here. It’s about your lawn. You have a problem. It does not need to be mowed every day. I promise. You’re retired, well-deserved after what I assume to be many, many years of hard work. So good for you. But you’re spending your twilight years making sure the grass on your 1/8th of an acre of the world is as short as humanly possible.

Meanwhile, I’m young in my professional career, decades away from retirement, and I look longingly forward to that magical time when I get up when I want, spend my waking hours however I damn well please, and altogether take advantage of answering to absolutely no one. But you’re ruining all that. You’re making the retired life seem like no more than pass after pass on a John Deere.

I’m sure my view of the retired life is a bit idealized. They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. But in our case, it’s just shorter. Much shorter. I get that retirement can’t all be vacations and interesting new hobbies, but it’s got to be better than a loud buzz at 8 in the morning, followed by a second pass a few hours later just for good measure. You mow your lawn like I buzz my hair at the beginning of summer. One complete pass, let it get wet, then go over it again to get all those scragglers. But mine is more about minimizing how stupid I look as a 28-year-old man with a buzz cut. Yours amounts to nothing more than agricultural OCD.

In closing, I simply ask that you seek help. There’s a 12-step for everything these days, some motivational guru who will sell you a set of DVDs to cure what ails you. I’ll even pitch in. No need to spend your 401K dollars on that. You’ve wasted enough already. If it means you stop killing my dreams of waking up at 10, learning woodworking and building a lavish gazebo and hitting on mildly-attractive waitresses, then it’s a sound investment.

Sincerely,

Your Concerned Neighbor

TRC's Top Tweets of the Week, July 23-29

We love Twitter, and so should you. In fact, you should be sure to follow us there too.

This is the first of a weekly list of our picks for Top Tweets of the Week:

@AdamSchefter - Welcome back, football.

@robdelaney - When I was a little boy I wanted to marry a firetruck. I wound up marrying a woman named Leah. She's okay.

@Rosenberg_Mike - I hope that, right before the NFL lockout ended, Kenny Britt squeezed in one last arrest.

@jonlajoiecomedy - I hate when people say dumb things like "Why did you burn all of my mother's dresses?" Because I did, idiot.

@JoeMande - Once Apple makes jumpsuits, we'll all be wearing dumb silver jumpsuits.

Did we miss any? Let us know in the Comments below, or tweet us at @ReserveClause.

Millionaire Convicts v Sea Monsters

Written by: Writer X, The Reserve Clause

This week has been a particularly important week for television. The NFL has stopped blabbing about Roger Goddell and the Discovery Channel will begin Shark Week 2011 on Sunday. I find myself trying to figure out what is more important to me: which billionaire will sign the most ex-convicts or which shark is going to eat one of those fake seals first? So in the spirit of the NFL and Shark Week, let’s compare these two topics by completing an in-depth analysis of the top 3 NFL ex-cons and how they measure up to those captivating ocean creatures.

Dante Stallworth vs Angel Shark

I know many of you are wondering what the heck is an Angel Shark? Well this shark is one of the rarest sharks in the world. They look like a mash-up between a shovel and a bath mat. And how does that compare to Dante Stallworth? Well Dante is a rare form of human. He had a Blood Alcohol Level way over the legal limit and managed to hit someone with his car and serve minimal jail time. Now that’s rare! Not to mention, look at their mouths!

Plaxico Burress vs Great White Shark

As many of you know Plax shot himself in the leg with his own pistol. He served two years in jail for it and has the all-time honor of being a complete idiot. But why is Plax being compared to the Great White Shark (aka the beast of the water aka Greg Norman)? For one, they feel it is necessary to always be armed in the ocean (in this case a gun is the equivalent to hundreds of razor sharp teeth). Secondly, they enjoy inflicting pain, and sometimes they just have no clue what the hell is right and wrong. Also rumor is that NoBu is Plax’s favorite restaurant and I’m just assuming sharks like raw fish too.

Mike Vick vs Dog Shark

Do I even need to explain this one to the audience? Only thing I am going to say here is that maybe Mike should start fighting these bad boys?

Well that’s all I have for you today but remember Shark Week> NFL post-lockout week.