At Least They Pay Well

When your AI coding assistant decides to go full scorched earth mode and "regenerate" your ENTIRE C DRIVE instead of just fixing that one semicolon. Imagine asking your helpful robot friend to tidy up your code and instead it's like "you know what? Let's just delete Windows, your family photos, and that novel you've been working on for five years." The sheer TERROR of realizing your AI interpreted "regenerate the code" as "format C:\" is the kind of existential dread that makes you question every life choice that led you to trust a chatbot with your precious files. Nothing says "I've made a huge mistake" quite like watching your operating system vanish into the void because you weren't specific enough with your prompts.

The ultimate programmer's Uno reverse card. Asking ChatGPT not to copy code is like asking a chef not to use recipes. The brutal truth is none of us write truly "original" code anymore—we're all just remixing Stack Overflow answers with varying degrees of confidence. At least AI is honest about its plagiarism.

JavaScript: the caffeinated workhorse pouring itself into literally everything these days. Remember when we thought it was just for making annoying popup alerts? Now it's feeding the entire tech ecosystem like some kind of mandatory office coffee machine. Frontend, backend, mobile, desktop, and even ML engineers are all drinking from the same pot whether they want to or not. The ultimate "write once, run everywhere" language finally happened, and it's the one we used to make fun of. The universe has a sick sense of humor.

Ah, the classic "tell us about your AI tools" question. The perfect trap for developers who've been using ChatGPT to write 90% of their code for the last year. Do I admit I outsource my brain to silicon, or pretend I still remember how loops work? It's like asking a chef if they use pre-minced garlic. We all do it, but nobody wants to be the first to confess in the interview.

Content Vibe coder Me reviewing his PR after vibe coding 69th revision

The existential dread hits different when you realize all those hours grinding through algorithm puzzles were just feeding the beast that'll eventually replace you. Competitive programmers spent years optimizing solutions to the most obscure problems, only to discover they've been unwittingly training their silicon successors. The ultimate plot twist: your LeetCode grind wasn't preparing you for a job interview—it was preparing AI to ace it instead. Talk about creating your own replacement with extra steps.