We Follow Agile Principles

Developers cuddle their applications with tender loving care, afraid to break them if they move too much. Meanwhile, testers are out here violently yeeting the same code into concrete to see what happens. The relationship difference is clear: developers are helicopter parents who think their precious code is perfect, while testers are that uncle who thinks teaching kids to swim means throwing them into the deep end. Both get paid the same.

The eternal struggle of explaining Brooks' Law to management who think software development is like cooking chickens. Sure, you can crank up the heat to 900°F and cook it in 1 hour, but the result is a charred, inedible disaster. Meanwhile, the proper approach at 300°F takes 3 hours but yields something actually usable. Same logic applies to dev teams: throwing 2 more developers at a late project doesn't make it 3x faster—it makes it slower. Why? Communication overhead scales quadratically. With 3 devs you have 3 communication channels, with 5 devs you have 10. Plus there's onboarding time, context switching, merge conflicts, and the inevitable "wait, who changed this file?" Slack messages. The PM sees "3 devs = 3x speed" but reality delivers a burnt chicken that nobody wants to merge into production.

HR: "Do you work in Agile?" Developers everywhere: *silent screaming* The truth hits harder than a failed production deployment at 4:59 PM on Friday. Whether you choose Waterfall (one big sequential pile of 💩) or Agile (the same pile, just broken into multiple sprints of 💩), you're still dealing with... well, you know. The only real difference? In Agile, you get to experience the disappointment in two-week increments instead of all at once. It's like choosing between getting punched once really hard or getting slapped repeatedly for eternity. Such innovation. Much methodology.

Nothing quite like that moment of existential dread when you open a pull request with 5,265 additions and 266 deletions across 27 files. Do you start with the easy wins? Skim through hoping it's mostly auto-generated code? Or just approve it and pray to the Git gods that production doesn't catch fire? The only thing certain is that your afternoon is now officially ruined and your coffee isn't nearly strong enough for this nonsense.

Ah, the classic "MVP" that management is so proud of. Two bikes duct-taped together with all the structural integrity of a house of cards built during an earthquake. The backend developer's purple bike looks somewhat functional but outdated, while the frontend is a flashy green monstrosity that barely connects to anything. And that REST API in the middle? Just plastic wrap and prayers holding the entire architecture together. Yet somehow this contraption is deemed "production ready" by people who've never written a line of code. This is what happens when the deadline was "yesterday" and the budget was "whatever's in the vending machine."

The corporate hierarchy of bug fixing, illustrated as a chess game where nobody actually knows what's happening. The intern is confidently saying "Yes" (they fixed the bugs), the team leader is asking "What code?" (they don't even know what codebase needs fixing), and the senior developer who originally asked the question is responding with a flat "No" (because they know better than to believe anyone). It's the perfect representation of software development chaos where the person with the least experience is the most confident, and the person with the most experience has completely given up on expecting competence. The circle of technical debt is complete!