I have been watching David Attenborough's Life of Mammals all morning and I learned that the platypus family has been around for over one-hundred-million years! This presents a troubling existential dilemma. If there is a God, or at the least a malevolent Dog, responsible for our creation, the platypus' lengthy lineage is undeniable proof that we are here solely for His amusement. Surely if a half-duck, half-otter creature without nipples* has survived since the time of the dinosaurs, there is no fucking point to life. In fact, I may never leave my studio apartment again. *This John Merrick miscarriage of nature excretes milk though its pores! Ew!

I thought it would be funny to suicide bomb the Blockbuster Video up the street to protest film censorship. Instead I did something constructive with my evolutionary angst, but only because I didn't have to put on pants to do it. This is a picture I drew of a kangeroo yelling at a platypus in a trenchcoat.