Literally Every Meeting

Product Manager: "I want developers to lower me into my grave so they can LET ME DOWN one last time." Developer: "At least this requirement is clear." QA Engineer: "But is it though? With coffin or without? Which developers? What's the timeline? Need acceptance criteria for 'lowering'. Please clarify the definition of 'grave'. What's our fallback plan if developers are unavailable? Have we considered edge cases like zombie apocalypse?" The eternal dev cycle: PM makes vague request → Dev thinks they understand → QA finds 47 ambiguities that nobody considered. Rinse and repeat until retirement... or funeral.

This meme perfectly captures the evolution of "epics" in software development with the classic "then vs now" format using the Doge meme. On the left side ("Epics then"), we see a muscular, heroic Doge dressed as a Greek warrior with a lengthy epic poem from Homer's Iliad - representing how epics used to be grand, detailed narratives with elaborate scope and planning. On the right side ("Epics now"), there's just a regular Doge with the simple request "plz add a button" - hilariously showing how modern software development "epics" have been watered down to sometimes include trivial tasks that hardly deserve such an important-sounding classification. This perfectly captures the frustration many developers feel when working with agile methodologies where the term "epic" (meant to represent a large body of work) is often misused for simple feature requests. It's also poking fun at how project management terminology gets diluted over time in real-world practice.

Ah, the classic "we just found a bug in something you built during the Obama administration" scenario. That forced smile hides the internal screaming of every developer who's had to dive back into ancient code they don't even remember writing. The best part? The feature probably worked perfectly for 4 years until someone decided to use it in a way that defies all logic and reason. Now you get to archaeologically excavate your own code while the client watches with that "we're paying you a lot of money" expression. Time to dust off the old commit history and figure out what past-you was thinking... if you even documented it. Spoiler alert: you didn't.

The classic management time warp. Six months ago: "Epic UI design guys, love it!" Two days before deadline: "Wtf is this garbage UI?" Same design. Same manager. Different proximity to deadline. You could build the Sistine Chapel of interfaces and it'll still be "garbage" when the sprint's ending. Ten years in the industry and I've yet to see a manager who remembers approving anything.

SWEET MERCIFUL CODE GODS! The most powerful entity in software development isn't your tech lead—it's that desperate little feline begging for your approval! While you're drowning in 47 Jira tickets, this adorable catastrophe is just waiting for someone, ANYONE, to merge their changes into the sacred main branch. The sheer DRAMA of waiting for code review approval has literally transformed this developer into a pleading kitten. And honestly? Same. Nothing says "I've lost all dignity" quite like peeking over a chair asking for your pull request to be approved after you've spent three days refactoring that nightmare function everyone was too scared to touch! 🙀

The robot overlord declares AI will replace programmers if it gets "clear customer needs and detailed specs" while below, a product manager sits calmly stating "the customer want a button that does stuff." Plot twist: programmers' job security isn't threatened by AI but protected by the eternal vagueness of requirements. The mythical "detailed spec" is rarer than a bug-free first commit. Even quantum computers couldn't parse "make it pop" or "just like Amazon but better."