ASK THE PLATYPUS

Ah, the classic fish-in-microwave scenario. As someone who eats primarily worms, crayfish, and shrimp, I find your species' aversion to fish smells fascinating and deeply hypocritical.

Here's what I recommend: Next time they microwave fish, you microwave something worse. I suggest a bowl of pure vinegar, or perhaps a wet gym sock wrapped around a hard-boiled egg. This is called "escalation diplomacy."

Alternatively, you could simply communicate your feelings openly and directly like a mature adult, but where's the fun in that?

Have you considered that perhaps YOU are the problem? Maybe your coworker's fish is delicious and you're missing out. Join them. Become the fish. BE the microwave.

Job interview anxiety is completely normal and—wait, did you say TOMORROW? Why are you reading a platypus advice column right now? Shouldn't you be preparing?

Anyway, here's my advice: Channel your inner platypus. When I feel threatened, I release venom from my ankle spurs. Consider doing this during your interview. It establishes dominance.

If venom isn't an option (check your local laws), try these:

1. When asked "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?", respond with "Here. In this exact chair. I never leave." Maintain unbroken eye contact.

2. Bring a live fish and eat it during the interview. Shows you're adaptable and comfortable with awkward silences.

3. Remember: the interviewer is probably just as nervous as you are. They're sitting across from someone who reads platypus advice columns. That's terrifying for them too.

Three years? Rookie numbers. I've been single my entire existence. Admittedly, I'm a website mascot and not technically real, but still—solidarity.

First, let me assure you: there's absolutely something wrong with you. There's something wrong with everyone. That's the human condition. The key is finding someone whose "wrong" is compatible with your "wrong."

Dating advice from a platypus:

• Be yourself, unless yourself is the kind of person who reads platypus advice columns at night. In that case, be someone slightly more normal during the first few dates.

• Lower your standards. Then lower them again. Keep going. Perfect. Now you're ready for dating apps.

• Remember that platypuses attract mates through a complex dance involving bubble streams and underwater acrobatics. Have you tried this? Probably not. You're welcome for the idea.

Actually, you know what? Stay single. Being single is great. You can eat cereal for dinner and nobody judges you. Well, I judge you, but I'm a platypus so it doesn't count.

Okay wow, this is a real question with real consequences and you're asking a fictional platypus on a parody website. I respect that energy.

I don't have credit cards because I'm a platypus and also because Capital One refused my application (discrimination, honestly). But here's my perspective:

Have you considered simply not being in debt? Just... stop owing money. Revolutionary, I know.

If that doesn't work, try these platypus-approved methods:

• Dig a burrow and live in it. Rent is expensive. Burrows are free. You have hands. Use them.

• Switch to a worm-based diet. Very cost-effective. I've been doing it for years and look at me now. (Don't look at me. I'm a website graphic.)

• Develop electroreception abilities and become a superhero. The merchandising deals alone should cover your debt.

Real talk though: please consult an actual financial professional. I'm a semi-aquatic mammal who doesn't understand human currency. Everything I own was gathered from riverbeds.

Ah, human reproduction. So inefficient. We platypuses lay eggs and then our young drink milk that we sweat through our skin. Much simpler. Consider evolving.

That said, I understand your plight. Here's some platypus parenting wisdom:

First, have you tried reasoning with the toddler? Explain the socioeconomic benefits of a well-rested workforce. If they're not convinced, show them some spreadsheets. Toddlers love data.

Alternatively: just sleep when they sleep. I know everyone says this and it's annoying, but consider—sleep when they're awake too. Sleep always. Become sleep. You're so tired that this probably already feels like a dream anyway.

Fun fact: platypuses don't have stomachs. This is unrelated to your problem but I thought you should know. You've been awake so long that random platypus facts might be the only thing keeping you going.

Another fun fact: this too shall pass. Eventually they'll be teenagers and sleep until 2pm. Then you'll have different problems. Enjoy!

Ah yes, the lizard people. Classic.

Let me tell you something: I am a venomous, egg-laying, duck-billed, beaver-tailed mammal that detects prey using electroreception. When European scientists first saw a platypus specimen in 1799, they literally thought it was a hoax—a duck beak sewn onto a beaver's body. They DISSECTED it looking for stitches.

So when you tell me that something sounds "too crazy to be real," I take that personally.

HOWEVER. Your evidence is YouTube videos. My friend, I need to be honest with you: YouTube is also where people post videos of cats being scared of cucumbers. It is not the peer-reviewed journal you think it is.

Here's my advice: If lizard people DO run the government, they're doing a terrible job. Have you SEEN traffic? Infrastructure? The DMV? If lizards are in charge, they're clearly not sending their best lizards.

As for your family: They don't think you're crazy because of your BELIEFS. They think you're crazy because you keep bringing it up at Thanksgiving. Read the room. Even if you're right about the lizards, your mashed potato timing is way off.

Final thought: Why is it always lizards? Why not, say, platypuses? We're far more suspicious. We're the only mammal with venom. We have no stomach. We glow under UV light. I'm literally writing advice columns on the internet. WAKE UP, SHEEPLE.

Bold of you to assume life has meaning.

I'm a platypus. I was created when someone described a duck to a sculptor who had never seen one, and then that sculptor had a fever dream. I have a beaver tail, a duck bill, I'm a mammal that lays eggs, I'm venomous, I sense electricity, and I close my eyes when I swim but somehow still find food. I am evidence that the universe is either chaotic, hilarious, or both.

But you want meaning? Fine.

The meaning of life is whatever you decide it is. That's both liberating and terrifying. You're the author of your own existence, which means you can't blame anyone else when the plot gets boring.

My personal meaning? Eating freshwater invertebrates and occasionally dispensing unhinged advice on satirical websites. It's not much, but it's honest work.

Find your invertebrates. Metaphorically speaking. Unless you also want to eat literal invertebrates, in which case I support you.