The Ultimate Silicon Valley Exit Strategy

So they want a "Vibe Coder" who "orchestrates code through the power of AI" and "vibes their way to a brilliant front end product." Translation: We want someone to type prompts into ChatGPT while we pretend we're revolutionizing development. This job description screams "we have no idea what we're doing but we've invested too much in AI to admit it." Soon they'll replace "Senior Developer" with "Prompt Engineering Guru" and wonder why their codebase looks like it was written by a caffeinated squirrel with a keyboard. The funniest part? 42 people actually applied. Desperation truly knows no bounds in this economy.

Nothing says "productivity boost" like being told to integrate AI into your workflow when you're already drowning in technical debt and legacy code. Sure, let me just pause fixing this production bug to learn how to prompt engineer my way through a task I could've completed in 20 minutes without the AI hallucinating half the solution. The real force multiplier here is the force required to not roll your eyes during the all-hands meeting where they announce this groundbreaking initiative.

The perfect metaphor for GitHub Copilot's autocomplete functionality! You start typing some code with a clear intention in mind, and Copilot jumps in with the confidence of someone who absolutely knows what you're going to say... except it's hilariously off-target. Just like when you're about to deliver a profound statement and someone interjects with "sandwiches?" The AI is trying so hard to be helpful but sometimes the suggestions are so wildly disconnected from your actual coding intentions that you can't help but laugh. It's that special relationship where you type "const authenticate = async (user" and Copilot suggests "...PizzaDeliveryOptions) =>"

Microsoft casually slides Copilot into your IDE like it's doing you a favor. Users nod politely, pretending to care. Then someone actually tries it and suddenly they're furious at this rainbow abomination that autocompletes their code with the confidence of a junior dev who just discovered Stack Overflow. The betrayal is real—you thought you wanted AI assistance until it started suggesting you refactor your entire codebase at 3 PM on a Friday.

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.

The four stages of training an AI model, as experienced by every data scientist who's ever lived: First panel: Innocent optimism. "Training time!" Oh, you sweet summer child. Second panel: Desperate pleading. "C'MON LEARN FASTER" while staring at that pathetic learning curve that's flatter than the Earth according to conspiracy theorists. Third panel: The error messages. Just endless red text that might as well be hieroglyphics. *SIGH* indeed. Fourth panel: Complete surrender. "3, 6, 2!!!" *shoots model* "I'LL GO GET THE NEXT ONE." Because nothing says machine learning like throwing away hours of work and starting from scratch for the fifth time today. The real joke is that we keep doing this voluntarily. For money. And sometimes fun?