Archive for Comedy

Darrell Vickers – Shut Up Kids Part 3 – Production Everything About it is Appealing!

Posted in Opinion, Review, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2020 by segarini

Every young writer’s wet dream of dreams is to get a pilot picked up and have it coroneted as a network series. A Holy Grail filled with Hebrew National Hotdogs. It’s the equivalent of finding out your rich uncle died and left you his sex cult. It’s like going to the cupboard and discovering someone has eaten all your Fiber One cereal and all that’s left is Captain Crunch. Like finding out the doctor who gave you your last colonoscopy died very slowly in a car wreck. But it’s not all candy corn sprinkled with fructose. No siree Robert. By the time we reached the conclusion of this torturous, tortuous road, Andrew Nicholls and I looked worse than Nick Nolte’s mugshot.

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Darrell Vickers – Shut Up Kids Part 2: Casting – A Little Dab’ll Do Ya

Posted in Opinion, Review, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 29, 2020 by segarini

Very few execs dare to call themselves writers. Sitting alone in a room for hours on end, pounding out words that some future idiot will tear to pieces, is not a lot of fun. It is work of the dullest nature. Drudgery. For many, it is tedium beyond the endurance of saints.  Like having psychotic gnomes drilling birdhouse-sized holes into your cerebral cortex as you stare bleakly at a white computer screen that mocks your suffering. The abject blood-freezing fear of the untyped page has turned even the most talented of scribes to booze, drugs, bocce ball and eventually blessed death.

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Darrell Vickers – Shut Up Kids

Posted in Opinion, Review, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2020 by segarini

For the Want of a Horse

Andrew Nicholls and I were finishing up our last year of The Tonight Show and we were busier than Robert Downey Jr.’s lawyer in the ‘90s. Any reasonably priced writing assignment that didn’t involve a rapping kangaroo was graciously accepted.

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Darrell Vickers – The Paul Sands of Iwo Jima

Posted in Opinion, Review, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 15, 2020 by segarini

When the treacherous and unpredictable seas of art and commerce enervate even the most dauntless of our kind, itinerant scribes oft times find themselves in want of a home. A sufficiently peaceful harbor in which to moor their buffeted and battered vessels. ‘Tis then we weary wordsmiths seek out a major studio in hopes of procuring an overall deal.

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Darrell Vickers – Your Package Has Arrived

Posted in life, Opinion, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2020 by segarini

When The Tonight Show was cantering through its year-long goodbye victory lap, Andrew Nicholls and I were far from coasting to the finish line, sipping jumbo daiquiris and hoovering astonishing powders out of topless starlets’ Miu Miu pumps. While Johnny was retiring to enjoy his riches, Malibu estate, yacht and the loving arms and legs of his young 4th wife, Andrew and I had accumulated families that required regular feedings.

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Darrell Vickers – It’s Only Words: How Hollywood Made Me Thicke to My Thtomache

Posted in life, Opinion, Review, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 21, 2020 by segarini

I became a professional scribe at the tender, pre-Tinder, age of 18. Since the halcyon days of my humble, date-free youth, words have fed my family and made it possible for me to accumulate a record collection that would sink most medium-size boats. While I have enjoyed an unreasonable amount of success through the decades, armed with only pen in hand and the dictionary in my head, in show business there is forever a micro-thin line between gainful employment and having to mug a giant-arrow-spinning condo clown for his Subway coupons. This is the harrowing, tongue-swallowing tale of how a couple of simple words almost cost me my entire Hollywood career, just as it was breaching the birth canal.

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Gary Pig Gold and the Firesign Theatre change the Course of Educational Field Trips Once and For All.

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , on July 30, 2018 by segarini

HIGH SCHOOL MADNESS
or
HOW CAN YOU DRIVE TO TWO PLACES AT ONCE:

I can now hereby unequivocally state I was one of the proud, the brave, and yes, the subsequently unemployable by-products of the Peel County Board of Education’s early-Seventies flirtation with that dastardly “open curriculum.” “Open” as in “Let the kids take whatever courses they want and show up to class only when they feel like it …maybe that’ll prepare ’em for University life; if not, at least we can lay all our career counselors off and spend more on the football field.”

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Mike Marino – The Ghost of Lenny Bruce

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2018 by segarini

The city of Detroit, especially the radio community was duking it for the Heavy Weight Title of who would sponsor the George Carlin Concert at Henry Ford Community College in Dearborn, Michigan. George coming to college..the ultimate seven dirty words substitute teacher and class was in session. CJOM, WABX, WRIF and W-4  were all co-sponsors of the event being treated as the one in line with the big bang theory..however was more in line with Darwin’s Theory of Social Comic Evolution.

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Segarini – A Funny Man Takes His Leave

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 18, 2018 by segarini

Last year, on March 13th, a group of men and women, most of us long in the tooth but younger at heart than most could imagine, gathered in the back of a bar called The Pilot to pay tribute and say goodbye to the very funny, eclectic, and absurdist comedian, Steve Shuster.

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Darrell Vickers – I’ve Seen You’re Fired and I’ve Seen Rain

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 13, 2017 by segarini

On balance, being a comedy writer is about as exciting as picking out a good denture cream for your great aunt at the local Albertsons. It consists of countless hours spent sitting alone in a room (much like we all did at our senior prom) and staring at a screen as white as Edgar Winter’s ass. No adoring crowds erupt into deafening acts of rhapsodic approbation, when we triumphantly tap out, “The End” on well-worn keyboards.

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