Farewell, Sweet Nudelman.

(The following is, sadly, the last in-house entry of "In the Nude" by Joe Nudelman, who for the last six months has been a major contriubutor to Eat a Dick Joel:)

Today I’ve decided to write a worthy tribute to the arguably most awesomest weapon ever forged by the gods: The trident!


This glorious piece of weaponry is as deadly as it is versatile. The use of the Trident has spanned over the course of all time, spanning universes, species, and mythology.


Did you know that more things have been poked by the tips of a trident than the overall number of thrusts with a trident over the course of our history? Approximately three holes have been punctured for every single thrust, talk about efficiency! Bet your stupid gun can’t hit three things with only one bullet… HA!
Tridents have played a glorious role in the development of our modern society. Ancient warriors and rulers of sea wielded the mighty ‘Tri-Cornered Spear’ (as it was referred to in the time of Scurvy). Many might argue that had it not been for this spectacular bit of weaponry, that the Navy as we know may not have ever received permission to traverse the glorious ocean that covers our planet, and we would be forced to become land isolated, living in caves, and likely turning to cannibalism in the absence of wonderful silks and spices that could be found just on the other side of the pond. I pledge my loyalty to those brave ancient souls and salute thee who created the wondrous trident.


The trident paved the way for many things. From useful things such as forks, sporks, and walking sticks. And to things we could probably do without, such as sporks, this article, and that crappy Trident Gum commercial where that bitch is stranded on that island, and the gum makes her teeth shine so bright that it attracts a plane to rescue her. That commercial sucks almost as much as this article! Stupid, just stupid.


In conclusion, tridents are awesome and they are bigger and better than you or I. Respect them or face the consequences.

In other news, today (Friday May 4th) is my last day here at C-K. I’ve enjoyed my time with most all of you (all 3 who read this to be sure), and despite the lack of a respectable amount of pay the company here makes it a bit frustrating and difficult to leave. There was a compliment in that previous sentence.

And my last conversation with Sergio will probably incite a rage inside my bowels that will likely lead to a desire to murder adorable babies and puppies, no matter how mine they are, every time I think about it. Seriously, I went from liking him, to going somewhere between loathing and homicidal thoughts, I actively dislike this man. But I digress.

I’ve enjoyed my time with you all and wish you well. If anyone would wish to contact me, my email address is joenudelman@hotmail.com.

Catch y’all on the flip!

-Joe Nudelman

"In The Nude," Part 2 of an ongoing series

(The following is the second entry of a new occasional series by guest writer Joe Nudelman – don't laugh.)

"Avalanches Blow"

Avalanches: The Very Loud Killer… The Distinctly Audible Killer… okay… The Ridiculously Loud Killer. Screaming is often met with the unspeakable experience of withstanding the wrath of the mountains. As scary as such an occurrence may be, screaming at the horrific sight will only inspire more deadly, snow covered, carnage to rain upon your otherwise totally awesome Spring Break party weekend with totally hot babes skiing in two pieces for apparently no reason, and you’ve got to out-ski the opposing camp for rule of the slopes!

Avalanches have claimed 484 fatalities upon the American populous since 1985, these natural disasters are not to be confused with the recording artist ‘The Avalanches’ (note the ‘s’ denoting plural). These guys are totally decent musicians, if you like that sort of thing.

Now come on, 484 fatalities is nothing. 484!? Please. I’ve racked up at least 539 on Mortal Kombat. Granted those are compounded numbers following the entirety of the video game series, and greatly serve as evidence of an otherwise unfulfilling childhood. But nonetheless those numbers still impress. What is even more is that Mortal Kombat SUCKED! I mean seriously, why would you play a 2D fighting game where you have to press a stupid button to block? Really!?

Street Fighter was a WAAAAY better series, that kicked as much ass as Blanka beating the crap out of Chun-Li (I remember her being a lot hotter)

No stupid buttons for blocking in this game, just hold the back direction. The game series was also a whole lot better than that stupid movie, which will unfortunately stand forever as the last work of totally decent actor Raul Julia.

In short, Avalanches may SEEM big and scary, but don’t fret too much. I’m really good at video games and Avalanches don’t scare me a lick.

Catch y’all on the flip! –Joe Nudelman

"In the Nude," A New EADJ Feature by Joel Nudelman

(The following is the first entry of a new occasional series by guest writer Joe Nudelman – don't laugh.)

"Searching for control: A Whale of a Tale"

I was slouching on my couch the other evening, relaxing and watching a typically touching and laugh invoking installment of Scrubs on Comedy Central. Dr. Cox (John C. McGinley) was giving J.D. (Zach Braff) the most difficult of times for something both hilarious and medical related. Much to my dismay, the show decided it needed a bit of a break and started running commercials. As much as I enjoy watching promos for The Naked Trucker and T-Bone Show, I gasped as I realized that I was missing Scrubs, you know on the ‘My Network’ (Channel 8 on most Comcast Cable Providers). How could I possibly miss another difficultly forgettable moment of the show RottenTomatoes.com calls: “NBC has dropped the ball completely when promoting Scrubs…” while I sat there mindlessly watching ads in between bits of Scrubs? I obviously had to get as much Scrubs in me as possible… stat! I guess.

I like Scrubs, a lot, so I quickly reached to the couch cushion adjacent to me to grab Remy the remote only to discover that he had gone! I quickly threw my beer against the wall in panic, then soon regretted it. I frantically turned over couch cushions and coffee table(s) looking for my dear remote. I had to hurry, if I didn’t Scrubs would return before I had a chance to catch a moment of Scrubs. Finally, I started to prod and poke underneath the couch itself, I was desperate. I shoved the quarter and the Prilosec OTC I found into my jammies and kept digging. Then “BAM”, I said looked around and said it again “BAM BAM”, ‘why was I saying this?’ I thought.

Next thing I know I’m hurling towards what I can only assume to be an alternate dimension of some sort of foreign and scary reality. ‘YAAARRGGHH’ I thought, “why did I think that?” “I’m speaking pretty calmly, you know, considering the circumstances”. I’m falling down a seemingly endless pit of blackness, and then I start to see it, a basketball game? The Lakers were beating the Bulls 64-48 in the third quarter, and I found myself sitting in the second row behind the Chicago bench. ‘This is weird’ I thought, ‘The players don’t seem to be wearing traditional uniforms’. The players didn’t actually even look like basketball players either, mostly shorter white men, who, most certainly, can’t jump.

Looking around at the players I noticed they looked familiar. ‘Oh my god’ I thought, ‘That’s Samuel L. Jackson’ Sammy looked like a badass as to be expected, then I noticed ‘John Travolta?’, there was Kevin Costner who looked really pensive, Ray Liotta looked tired and Burt Lancaster looked really old (or dead). Jennifer Connelly was hot as always and she was riding a mechanical horsey, surrounded by pubescent boys and sweating old men, eagerly feeding quarters. Christian Bale was guarding Kevin Spacey in the backcourt, both of them seemed awkwardly out of place to me.

Sam Jackson drained a three and as he sprinted back to play some ‘D’ he turned to me and yelled: “’Sup Whaley?”. I nodded in confusion “Whaley?” I said, “Whaley, Whaley”. ‘What did I just say I thought? I could’ve sworn I meant to say ‘that’s weird’ and it came out as ‘Whaley Whaley’’. “Whaley” I said again ‘Oh my god’ I thought ‘all I can say is ‘Whaley’’! I tried to scream “WHHAALLEEEEEYYY”, everyone started looking at me, I was sweating profusely and suddenly the basketball game, which was being very poorly played by the way, there were 6 turnovers that occurred all in the time that it took me to start screaming, had come to a stop and all the players were looking inquisitively in my direction.

I quickly punched the old woman next to me and started rummaging through her purse, I grabbed her make-up mirror and gazed upon myself. ‘Oh my god’ I thought, yet I said “Whaley Whaley Whaley”, ‘I’m Frank Whaley’! I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I was in the body of Frank Whaley, oft forgotten ‘character’ actor. I had to get out of there, I found myself crawling over the people next to me “Whaley” I kept saying.


Screaming , I ran towards the exits, locked! Everyone was looking at me, security and Benny the Bull were chasing me throughout the Staples Arena. Every time I tried to call for help or explain the situation all I could say was “Whaley”. I had to end it, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I didn’t want to think what prison would be like in such a place. I grabbed a knife from a hotdog stand and jammed it right into my eye. “WHAALLLLLEY” I shouted again. ‘Why the hell did I just do that, that hurt, a lot, that was really stupid’ I thought to myself. I fell to the floor and covered my eye socket, sobbing.

I wonder what sort of wacky antics Turk and J.D. are up to right now?

COMING UP IN THE NEXT 'IN THE NUDE': A hell of a lot less copy.