How The Tables Have Turned

The absolute state of enterprise software in 2024! This soap dispenser pumping directly onto a bar of soap perfectly captures how legacy companies implement AI - just slapping a chatbot on top of their ancient codebase without any actual integration. It's like putting racing stripes on a horse-drawn carriage and calling it "AI-powered transportation." The poor chatbot is just sitting there, desperately trying to make sense of 20-year-old spaghetti code written by developers who have long since retired to tropical islands.

First tweet: "Look at me! I built a SaaS with AI and zero coding! People actually pay for this!" Two days later: "Help! I'm being hacked! My API keys are maxed out, people are bypassing subscriptions, and my database is a dumpster fire!" The classic "I'm not technical" + "I skipped all security measures" combo strikes again. Turns out that building a product without understanding the fundamentals is like building a house with popsicle sticks—impressive until the first strong wind. Friendly reminder: AI can write your code, but it can't protect you from your own hubris. Security isn't just a vibe killer—it's actually kind of important.

Future managers surrounded by AI robots, desperately hunting down poor Devin who pushed that production bug? Welcome to the dystopian future where git blame has evolved beyond finding the commit author—it now deploys an army of robots to hunt you down. The irony is palpable. We've created AI sophisticated enough to replace workers, yet management still needs to find a human scapegoat. Some traditions never die, even in 2030. Pro tip: Always commit under your coworker's name when pushing questionable code. Future survival depends on it.

The evolution of dependency management excuses is just *chef's kiss*. First we pretend it's a calculated technical decision. Then we admit we're just lazy. But that final panel? Pure gold. "LLMs don't understand it yet" is the new "works on my machine." Nothing like blaming AI for your technical debt while your package.json looks like a digital archaeological dig site. Meanwhile, your junior dev is quietly running "npm audit fix" in production.

Oh, the sweet innocence of "I made a website with ChatGPT" followed by sending a local file path instead of a URL. That's like telling someone you're a chef because you microwaved a Hot Pocket. What we're witnessing here is the beautiful collision of Dunning-Kruger effect and file system confusion. Our friend thinks they've launched the next Facebook when they've really just saved an HTML file to their downloads folder. No server, no hosting, just pure unbridled confidence. The Windows file path is just *chef's kiss* perfect - nothing says "I'm a web developer" like trying to share C:\Users\ben\Downloads\index.html through iMessage.

Nothing says "I'm a serious AI startup" like using the universal symbol for "loading" as your logo. The German reply "perfectenschlag" is perfect - it's what Dwight from The Office used to describe "perfect pork anus" but also "perfect day." Just like this logo perfectly represents what most AI startups deliver - an eternal loading screen with nothing behind it. Venture capitalists, please form an orderly queue.