I Really Like Writing In C

Congratulations, you've received the ultimate programmer dad gift - a mug that basically declares your father superior to all other fathers using C syntax. The code iterates through all dads in existence, marks yours as kBestDad , and relegates everyone else's to kRegularDad status. It's basically a Father's Day card written by someone who thinks semicolons are punctuation marks for real life conversations. The only thing missing is a function that prints "Hi Hungry, I'm Dad" whenever you mention food.

Childhood: "I'll make the next World of Warcraft but with better graphics and cooler weapons!" Reality: Spending 6 months debugging collision detection only to have your game downloaded by your mom and that one supportive friend who gives it a 5-star review despite never making it past the loading screen. The gap between gaming fantasy and game dev reality is basically the distance between "I'm having fun" and "I'm questioning every life choice while staring at a semicolon for three hours."

Nobody in the history of programming has ever chosen an endianness based on performance. But choosing big endian because it "looks pretty" in a hex editor? That's the kind of arbitrary decision that haunts codebases for decades. Some dev probably made this call back in 2003 and now there's an entire team maintaining compatibility layers for it. For the uninitiated: endianness determines how bytes are ordered in memory. Little endian (0x01 0x02 0x03 0x04) reads as 0x04030201, while big endian reads naturally as 0x01020304. Absolutely nobody cares until you need to transfer data between systems, then suddenly everyone cares very much .

Two types of C programmers in the wild. On the left, the algorithm purist who builds a nested loop monstrosity with variables like "i" and "j" because apparently naming variables is too mainstream. On the right, the pragmatist who just hardcodes the damn star pattern and goes home early. The left guy is still debugging his loop indices while the right guy is already enjoying his weekend. Sure, it's not "elegant" or "scalable," but it works and nobody's going to maintain this code anyway. Let's be honest, we've all been both of these people at different points in our careers.

The kid asks Santa for an OS built with HTML, and Santa's about to yeet them out the window. Classic misunderstanding of what an operating system actually is versus what HTML does. HTML is a markup language for structuring web content—it literally just tells browsers "hey, this is a heading, this is a paragraph, make this text bold." You can't build an OS with it any more than you could build a car engine out of Post-it notes. Building a real OS requires low-level languages like C, C++, or Rust, direct hardware interaction, memory management, process scheduling, and a whole lot of kernel-level wizardry. Meanwhile HTML is just sitting there like "I can make a div with rounded corners!" The gap between these two concepts is so vast that Santa's violent reaction is completely justified. Fun fact: Electron apps basically do wrap HTML/CSS/JS in what feels like a mini-OS footprint (looking at you, Slack and Discord eating 2GB of RAM), but that's still running on top of an actual operating system doing the heavy lifting.

The floating point elitism is strong with this one! For the uninitiated, NaN (Not a Number) in IEEE 754 isn't just one value—it's a whole family of bit patterns that represent mathematical impossibilities. Some NaNs are "signaling" (they trigger exceptions), others are "quiet" (they silently propagate). So this programmer is basically the floating point equivalent of saying "I'm drinking single-origin, ethically sourced NaN while you're drinking instant NaN from a gas station." The numerical computation hipster has arrived, folks!