I Do Not Have That Much RAM

NVIDIA's pricing strategy has become so predatory that developers and gamers alike are genuinely considering selling organs on the black market. The joke here is that GPU prices have gotten so astronomical that you've already sold one kidney for your last card, and now NVIDIA's back for round two. The poor soul on the ground is begging for mercy because they literally have no more kidneys to give, but NVIDIA—depicted as an intimidating figure—doesn't care about your financial or biological limitations. They've got new silicon to sell, and your remaining organs are looking mighty profitable. Fun fact: The RTX 4090 launched at $1,599, which is roughly the street value of... well, let's just say NVIDIA's marketing team knows their target demographic's net worth down to the organ.

Want to see a data scientist have an aneurysm? Just swap all their import aliases like some chaotic evil code terrorist. TensorFlow as plt? Pandas as tf? Numpy as pd? Matplotlib as np? This is basically the programming equivalent of putting the milk in before the cereal. The person who wrote this code definitely wakes up and chooses violence every morning. No wonder it's titled about a goldfish with WiFi—the memory retention matches the import choices perfectly.

Einstein says insanity is repeating the same thing expecting different results, while machine learning algorithms are literally just vibing through thousands of iterations with the same dataset until something clicks. The irony is delicious - what we mock as human stupidity, we celebrate as AI brilliance. Next time your model is on its 10,000th epoch, just remember: it's not failing, it's "converging to an optimal solution." Gradient descent? More like gradient stubbornness.

Ah, the classic blame game in tech. Production environment is in flames (literally, a broken Goku figure), while AI gets all the media attention (the cat just chillin'), and the Senior Engineer gets pointed at to fix everything. Six years of experience and I'm still the janitor cleaning up after "it worked on my machine" disasters. Meanwhile, management's already planning the next feature while I'm knee-deep in production logs at 2 AM. The circle of tech life continues.

The classic bull in a china shop, but make it tech. That's Cursor AI—the new code assistant—asking if it can bring its "friend" into your pristine codebase. Every developer who's ever let an AI tool loose on their project knows that feeling of watching it confidently rewrite your carefully crafted code into something that technically works but somehow manages to violate every coding standard you've established over the last decade. Five minutes later, you're frantically running git reset --hard while quietly questioning your life choices.