Touch Grass: Command Not Found

Spending 30 minutes writing a script to automate a 5-minute task is the hill I'll proudly die on. Sure, I could just do the damn thing, but where's the elegance in that? The cosmic irony of programming: we'd rather spend 6x longer building the automation than actually doing the work. It's not laziness—it's "future-proofing." And yes, I know I'll never run that script again. But what if I did ? Checkmate.

When your entire career revolves around version control but you can't control your dad jokes. The classic naming convention gone wrong—kid's not a branch you can just merge later! Somewhere in the world, there's a developer named "Commit" whose dad thought he was being clever. The real tragedy? That kid probably grew up to use Mercurial instead.

File names with spaces? The digital equivalent of walking through a minefield with flip-flops. Back in the dark ages of computing, putting a space in your filename was basically asking the terminal to have an existential crisis. Nothing like typing cd My Documents only to have bash look at you like you just suggested we should indent with emojis. Even now, with all our fancy modern OSes, that little voice in your head still screams "ESCAPE THAT SPACE OR DIE" whenever your finger hovers over the spacebar while naming a file. Old programming trauma never heals—it just gets wrapped in increasingly complex compatibility layers.

Ah, the classic "custom sudo password prompts" phase that every Linux user goes through during their chaotic neutral era. This developer replaced their boring password prompt with Monty Python insults, because nothing says "I'm a serious professional" like having your terminal scream "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!" when you're just trying to scan a network. Fast forward six months, and now they're staring at their own code wondering if they were possessed or just severely sleep-deprived. The real security feature here is that not even the creator remembers what medieval French taunts they used as the actual password.

The ultimate developer dream state: spend months automating a process down to a single button click, write meticulous documentation that nobody reads, share with colleagues who nod politely, then still get emails asking you to "initiate the process" because nobody wants to touch your beautiful automation. Your job description has essentially become "Professional Button Pusher" with a six-figure salary. The irony? That automation took 300 hours to build but saves exactly 5 minutes per week. But hey, the ROI calculation conveniently ignored your development time!

Behold the NIGHTMARE that is trying to write Bash scripts! 😱 The top panel shows those fancy modern frameworks (VS Code, React, Node.js) smugly telling you to "just be confident" when approaching coding. Meanwhile, the bottom panel reveals the HORRIFYING TRUTH of what happens when you dare venture into Bash scripting territory - you transform into a deranged possum-creature questioning your entire existence! No amount of "confidence" can prepare you for the soul-crushing experience of debugging a Bash script where a single missing space or semicolon turns your beautiful code into an eldritch horror. The Vim logo lurking in the corner is just *chef's kiss* perfection - as if to say "welcome to your doom!"