1000 Fps In Any Game And Idek How Many Gbs Of Ram

1000 Fps In Any Game And Idek How Many Gbs Of Ram
Someone really said "I have a RTX 4090 but I don't know how much RAM" like they're selling a Ferrari but can't remember if it has seats. The seller claims their $5,000 beast pushes 1000fps in "any game" (sure, Jan, even Crysis?) but mysteriously can't recall basic specs like RAM capacity. Nothing screams "legitimate high-end gaming rig" quite like not knowing fundamental hardware specs of your own build. The confidence to price it at five grand while simultaneously admitting ignorance about core components? *Chef's kiss* of marketplace comedy. Either they're the world's most forgetful PC builder or they're hoping someone with more money than sense will bite.

Three Types Of Vibe Coders

Three Types Of Vibe Coders
The AI gold rush has created three distinct species of developers, and none of them are actually writing code anymore. First up: the Prompt Junkie , desperately tweaking their ChatGPT prompts like a gambler convinced the next spin will hit jackpot. "Just one more iteration bro" - famous last words before spending 4 hours prompt engineering what would've taken 20 minutes to code yourself. Then there's Programming in English guy, who's essentially become an AI therapist. You're not coding anymore, you're having philosophical conversations with Claude about edge cases while it hallucinates increasingly elaborate solutions. The irony? You need to understand programming deeply to even know what to ask for. It's like needing a law degree to hire a lawyer. Finally, the Grifter - selling $3000 courses on "AI prompting" to people who think they can skip learning fundamentals. Spoiler alert: if your entire business model is "type sentences into ChatGPT," you're not building a moat, you're building a sandcastle at high tide. The punchline? All three are getting "Paywalled" - because OpenAI's API costs add up faster than AWS bills on a misconfigured Lambda function. Welcome to the future where you pay per token to avoid learning syntax.

Bash Reference Manual

Bash Reference Manual
Someone asks for the Bash reference manual and gets hit with an absolute unit of a URL pointing to some obscure government PDF buried in the justice.gov domain. Because nothing says "user-friendly documentation" like a 73-character filepath that looks like it was generated by a random number generator in 2009. The cardinal's aggressive response perfectly captures the energy of Linux veterans who've memorized these cryptic paths and will absolutely roast you for not knowing them. Meanwhile, the smaller bird's "whoa." is all of us trying to process that someone actually has this URL memorized and ready to deploy as a weapon. The real joke? That URL probably doesn't even work anymore, but the cardinal doesn't care. It's about sending a message: RTFM, but make it intimidating.

But Microsoft

But Microsoft
Someone's out here cosplaying as Windows Security, sitting at a table trying to convince you they're totally legit and not a threat. The sign says "You're not the administrator" but then quickly adds "Change my mind" – which is basically Windows permission system in a nutshell. You know you installed the software. You know you clicked "Run as Administrator." You ARE the administrator. But Windows Security still looks at you like a suspicious stranger trying to modify system files. The audacity of asking YOU to prove YOUR legitimacy on YOUR own machine is peak Microsoft energy. It's like being denied entry to your own house by your doorbell camera. Every. Single. Time.

Compute Fibonacci In JavaScript

Compute Fibonacci In JavaScript
JavaScript's type coercion strikes again. Someone tried to compute the Fibonacci sequence but forgot that adding strings together doesn't do math—it does concatenation. So instead of getting 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, you get "1", "11", "111", "1111"... just progressively longer strings of ones. It's like watching someone try to do arithmetic with duct tape. The best part? The code probably ran without errors. JavaScript just silently nodded and said "yeah, this seems fine."

Sometimes My Code Is Like This....

Sometimes My Code Is Like This....
Behold, the architectural masterpiece of software development: a balcony that literally leads to NOWHERE but somehow holds up the entire building. You stare at it in absolute terror because removing it might cause the whole thing to collapse into a heap of runtime errors and broken dependencies. That random function you wrote at 3 AM? The one with the cryptic variable name "temp_fix_2_final_ACTUAL"? Yeah, it serves no visible purpose, defies all logic, and violates every SOLID principle known to humanity. But the SECOND you delete it, your entire application implodes spectacularly. So there it sits, mocking you from your codebase, a monument to your past sins and questionable life choices. Welcome to legacy code, where nothing makes sense but everything is load-bearing. Touch nothing. Question nothing. Just slowly back away and pretend you never saw it.

It's Not Exactly What It Seems Like With Old Tech

It's Not Exactly What It Seems Like With Old Tech
While everyone's out here having a full-blown brawl over React vs Vue, microservices vs monoliths, and whether tabs or spaces will end civilization, there's some guy peacefully eating his lunch while maintaining a COBOL system that's been running since before the internet had opinions. The real kicker? That COBOL dev is probably making bank because there are like 12 people left on Earth who know how to maintain those ancient mainframes that still process 95% of ATM transactions and credit card swaps. Banks literally can't afford to let these systems die, so they're stuck paying premium rates for developers who learned programming when punch cards were still a thing. Meanwhile, the "modern stack" crowd is too busy fighting about which JavaScript framework will be obsolete next Tuesday to notice they're reinventing the wheel for the 47th time this year. Job security? That COBOL dev has it in spades while the rest of us are one npm audit away from an existential crisis.

Which Algorithm Is This

Which Algorithm Is This
When AI confidently solves a basic algebra problem by literally evaluating the equation as code. The sister was 3 when you were 6, so the age difference is 3 years. Fast forward 64 years and... she's still 3 years younger. But no, ChatGPT decided to execute 6/2 and 3+70 as literal expressions and proudly announced "73 years old" like it just solved the Riemann hypothesis. This is what happens when you train an LLM on Stack Overflow answers without the comment section roasting bad logic. The AI saw those angle brackets and thought "time to compile!" instead of "time to think." Our jobs might be safe after all, fam. At least until AI learns that relationships between numbers don't change just because you put them in a code block.

Sad Times

Sad Times
The evolution of text editors told through the lens of broken friendships. We've all been there—you started coding with Notepad++ like it was your ride-or-die, then Sublime Text came along with its sleek UI and multi-cursor magic, and suddenly you're acting like Notepad++ never existed. Now Sublime Text is getting the same treatment because VS Code (represented by that orange Sublime logo) showed up with IntelliSense, integrated terminal, extensions for literally everything, and—oh yeah—it's free. No more "unregistered" popup guilt trips. The crossed-out Notepad++ at the bottom really drives home the point: it's not just replaced, it's erased from memory . The text editor graveyard is real, and we're all guilty of moving on without looking back. RIP to the tools that taught us to code before we got fancy with our IDEs.

What's The Most Worn-Out Key On Your Keyboard?

What's The Most Worn-Out Key On Your Keyboard?
The 'W' key is completely obliterated while everything else looks pristine. Why? Because real developers don't back up, don't retreat, and certainly don't learn from their mistakes. Just keep pushing forward into production with that half-baked code and see what happens. Debugging? Nah. Refactoring? Never heard of her. Just W-W-W-W-W your way through life until something breaks spectacularly. The determination in those anime eyes says it all: "I will not Ctrl+Z my way out of this. I will not git revert. I will simply continue writing more code on top of my bugs until they become features." That's the spirit of a true 10x developer right there—moving forward at all costs, leaving a trail of technical debt and confused teammates in your wake.

Man That Debugging Session Was Not Fun

Man That Debugging Session Was Not Fun
Installing VSCode via Snap on Linux is like choosing to debug in production on a Friday afternoon—technically possible, but you'll regret every second of it. The performance is sluggish, the integration is janky, and suddenly your editor takes 10 seconds to open a file. It's the kind of mistake that haunts you during every coding session afterward. Snap packages are containerized apps that sound great in theory but often deliver a subpar experience compared to native installations. VSCode via Snap is notorious for being slower, having clipboard issues, and generally feeling like you're coding through molasses. Veterans know: always grab the .deb package or use the official Microsoft repo. The debugging session reference? That's the painful 4-hour journey of uninstalling Snap VSCode, cleaning up the mess it left behind, and reinstalling it properly while your deadline looms closer.

Jungle

Jungle
Someone discovered that jungle music and infinite break statements have the same energy. Just relentless, unending breaks with no discernible pattern or purpose. No loops, no logic, no escape—just break after break after break. It's the musical equivalent of a switch statement written by someone who's given up on life. The compiler is crying. The CPU is confused. And somewhere, a code reviewer is having an aneurysm trying to figure out what control flow was supposed to happen here.