The 10-Minute Standup Collision

That moment when your coworker submits a pull request with 10,000 lines of code and you just approve it without even looking at it. "LGTM" (Looks Good To Me) is the digital equivalent of "yeah whatever, ship it" while leaning back in your chair with zero accountability. The best part? You'll be on vacation when it inevitably breaks production next week.

The most sacred commandment in all of software development, passed down from one traumatized generation to the next. You could have a function held together by duct tape, string, and a prayer—running on hardware that's one static shock away from becoming a paperweight—but the second someone says "maybe we should refactor this," everyone suddenly becomes deeply religious about not tempting fate. The code might be an eldritch horror that makes junior devs cry, but hey, at least it works . And in this industry, that's practically a miracle worth preserving.

The classic vampire/Superman weakness meme but with a coding twist! Vampires cower from sunlight, Superman recoils from kryptonite, and developers? They'll do ANYTHING to avoid writing unit tests. The sheer panic on that developer's face speaks volumes about the universal dread of having to verify your own code actually works as intended. Why spend 20 minutes writing tests when you could spend 8 hours debugging in production instead? Pure engineering efficiency!

Ah, the classic "it's not my problem anymore" approach to software engineering! Instead of wrestling with that spaghetti code monstrosity you helped create, just bail and let some poor unsuspecting dev inherit your mess. Technical debt? More like technical inheritance tax for the next sucker. It's basically the software equivalent of leaving dirty dishes in the sink and moving to a new apartment. Brilliant strategy until you realize the industry is smaller than you think and someday you might get hired to maintain your own abandoned dumpster fire. Karma comes full circle when you're in the interview and see your old codebase on the screen.

The eternal developer's paradox: You spend hours explaining why a feature is technically unsound, logically flawed, and practically useless. Your entire team agrees it's a disaster waiting to happen. Then the client sees it and acts like you've invented sliced bread 2.0. That moment when your professional trauma gets mistaken for genius... and somehow you still have to support this monstrosity for the next five years. But hey, the invoice cleared!

Oh look, it's Sun Tzu's lesser-known chapter on software development! Nothing says "I'm a 10x developer" quite like attributing your laziness to ancient Chinese military strategy. This is the battle cry of every developer who's about to unleash pure chaos into production. "Focus on building, not on tests and docs" is just fancy talk for "I'll let future me (or some poor soul who inherits my code) deal with this dumpster fire." The irony of using a military strategist who meticulously planned everything to justify skipping documentation is just *chef's kiss*. Next up: "The database will figure itself out" - Albert Einstein, probably.