My Friend Paid +400€ For That Meme.

Future playground insults just got upgraded from "Your mom" jokes to "Your mom codes in VibeCoder" — implying she uses some fictional 2045 programming language that's so outdated or cringe it's basically the equivalent of coding COBOL on punch cards while wearing socks with sandals. The real burn is that by 2045, we'll probably all be begging AI to fix our legacy React code while it silently judges our primitive syntax.

The ultimate AI reverse uno card. Someone asks ChatGPT if it can write code without copying from others, and ChatGPT fires back with "No, can you?" Brutal existential burn considering literally none of us write code from scratch anymore. We're all just professional Stack Overflow archaeologists with fancy job titles. The irony is delicious—humans accusing AI of plagiarism while we're all just remixing snippets and libraries that someone else built. At least the AI is honest about it.

That's not a white dot, that's Cursor AI sharing your plaintext password file with every hacker on the planet. Nothing says "security professional" like storing credentials in a CSV file named "passwords.csv" and then asking about UI elements while exposing it. Somewhere, a security engineer just felt a disturbance in the force and doesn't know why.

Left side: Regular person confidently declaring they feel "totally safe using Tesla Autopilot." Right side: Programmers who actually wrote the code having an existential crisis because they know exactly what lurks in those if-else statements. Nothing makes you question mortality like knowing the corner cases your code doesn't handle. The same programmers who put "// TODO: Fix this later" in production code are now responsible for keeping your car between the lines.

Ah yes, the terrifying AI revolution that's going to replace us all... with a locally saved HTML file. Nothing says "cutting-edge web development" quite like sending someone a file path that only works on your machine. The future of tech is clearly C:\Users\ben\Downloads\index.html — accessible to literally no one but Ben. Sleep tight, fellow developers. The robots aren't coming for our jobs until they figure out what a web server is.

The AI assistant lifecycle in six painful acts. First, AI screams it has the "BEST SOLUTION TO YOUR PROBLEM!" Then you explain "IT IS NOT WORKING." The AI pivots: "OKAY, TRY THIS APPROACH INSTEAD!" But it's "NOT EVEN CLOSE TO WHAT I NEED." The AI proudly declares it "WORKS ON MY DATASET!" before you finally storm off muttering "WILL DO IT MYSELF." It's the modern version of "works on my machine" except now we're gaslighted by a model trained on StackOverflow instead of a coworker who refuses to admit their code is broken. The circle of tech life continues...