Austin just lost our beloved Queen of Comedy- Lashonda Lester, wife, mother, friend and badass. It's time to come together to laugh, love and pay respects to Lashonda's inimitable talent as well as help her family.
The lineup will continue to grow, but right now we have confirmed:
Vanilla Presley (Patrick Sirois and Lane Krarup)
Plus videos of the Queen doing her Thing.
18+, $10 suggested donation.
Comics wanting to get onboard please contact firstname.lastname@example.org
The Austin comedy community will miss our Queen immensely.
"Whether she was telling a joke onstage, freely giving sage advice to a friend, or just watching some nonsense go down in the world around her, when Lashonda's voice cracked that whip, everybody laughed in agreement.
She had a biography that was bigger than life. It was dazzling to see so many disparate parts come together in the whole of an actual human being. This 13-year Austinite who never let you forget she was from Detroit, this former pro wrestling promoter, this pop culture fanatic and music enthusiast, this brassy storyteller who wouldn't hesitate to drag your brand name through some mud, this gentle soul, this mother and wife and sister and daughter, this budding television star - she was almost too many things at once. She passed away on the brink of stardom, weeks away from taping a Half Hour for Comedy Central, tackling offers of management and representation daily, planning a trip to Los Angeles, putting her first album to bed, and wrapping her head around the inklings of long overdue fame. She was fighting kidney issues and associated health problems, so she would invite comics to come and sit with her at dialysis, a ritual that a good swath of the Austin comedy community took part in. She would hold court from her chair, dispensing common sense while the nurses, who called her Hollywood, checked up on her regularly. She was always the youngest person at the clinic. She was healing. She had problems, but she and her doctors were on top of them. Her death on April 6 was shocking.
There is no higher tribute from comedians than our undivided, loving attention. As a type, we tend to want the stage, the glory, the microphone. But with Lashonda, there was always a sense that she had claim to the spotlight first. Nobody worked harder, helped more people, or had a voice that could crack like that whip. She was becoming the funniest person in America, and she left the crowd wanting more."- Carina Magyar, Austin Chronicle