The life of an underappreciated genius child of a stand-up comedian is not an easy one. Sure, you’re a genius, and that’s fun, but when all of the Hollywood starlets have dissipated you’re just another exceptionally attractive ten year old watching PBS’s Ghostwriter. Sixteen years and two worthless college degrees later (state school– jealous?) you get something like Shane Hebert.
For years the idea of performing lingered in the back of his head as the last great rebellion against his mother. Then, in January of 2006 Shane performed dead last at an open mic for three people (two of which were friends he paid the cover for) and KILLED! The last four years have been an awkward blur of clubs and bars all across the Texas / Louisiana megapolitan hub. If there is a poorly lit room hosting an open mic before Karaoke kicks off at eleven the odds are that Shane’s played it and walked away thinking he had a good set.
A lifelong student and collector of comedy Shane thinks he knows it all. He’s an old soul, a poet, a tortured genius trapped inside of an even more tortured old poet. Truth be told, he’s out there every night delivering the truth to the people: airplane travel IS annoying, relationships ARE difficult, and the races, are INDEED, fraught with humorous idiosyncrasies. Give him money and see what happens.
(Prepared by Shane Hebert writing in third person.)
Thoughts on love, life, and shelf-space.
One of the funniest mass transit puns you're likely see this week.