Panel-Cast: 90s X-men Clusterfuck (Patreon)

To me, my patrons. Whichever one of you said Panel-Cast, your prayers have been answered. So sit back, relax, crack open a cold, refreshing anything except Wendy's tropical fruit lemonade (because those abominations are 100 percent syrup and you're not 25 anymore), and enjoy the sputtering madness of me bumbing my way through a random stack of totally rad 90s comics, cause i'm gonna take you on a ride.

I pulled this audio file out of the swirling emporium of things i've recorded at some point and forgot about. This one was dated sometime in June 2021, which explains why i spend so much time in it lamenting my back pains and life-shames from living in a cramped hotel room without so much as a chair to park my ancient aching ass in. 

This is no longer the case, i now have a real place, with an acceptable chair, an actual work space, a big pink robe and a big ass bed to give my achy breaky body-bones a break in when they start rustin. Pretty cool. So all my complaining in this episode no longer applies, but i left it in because it's funny, and i value the autobiographical time-capsule quality of my overarching catalogue. Maybe that's crazy, i don't care. 

There are a lot of recordings and videos like this from my homeless vagabond era that i never had time or space to do anything with. When i say a lot i mean more than you can possibly imagine. So now that i'm actually in a position where i can get back to work, i've got my work cut out for me. You've all been loyal and patient and blah blah blah, i praised you enough last month, point is it's time to kick ass and i've got some things in the works now that are gonna blow you foo's away. 

This year got off to a stupid start, but i'm a-pullin myself out of that shitty shart, and up by my bootstraps once again, with all the unparalleled strength and heroic tenacity characteristic of my legendarily indomitable will, just as i've always done. God, I'm cool. You don't even know. Someday you will. Someday everyone will know. Trust me, I'm even cooler than you think. 

I'm even more based than 90s X-men comics, and just as convoluted, with only the occasional agonizingly protracted Psylocke body-switch arc. The story of the X-men is like the story of my life, so totally balls to the wall insane, fucked up, gnarly, and rad that normal people have neither the desire nor the complexity of thought to grasp even 1 percent of the grand tapestry of lore and continuity behind every snikkity snakt, belt pouch, page-filling word balloon, and buxom bodacious betsy braddock bikini splash. The applicability and parallels to my life and times are downright uncanny. 

That's why i know and love the X-men so dearly, because clearly i'm the only one who can. I find Marvel's merry mutants deeply relatable because much like myself, there's only one person rad enough to fully appreciate them, and that man's name is Me, man. I just got that X-factor, ya know? I have a magnetic personality and a certain mystique, that's why the ladies call me Weapon Sex. Or Professor Sex. Whichever's funnier. You get what i'm doing. 

In a world that hates and fears me, I'm the best there is at what i accrue, and what i accrue is more comics than you ever knew.