When Your Git Commit History Is Just Relationship Commits

Ah, the classic "my code doesn't work but I'll share it anyway" scenario. Some poor soul wrote a C++ program in Notepad (first red flag) with what appears to be a legitimate header and main function, but then decided to include their personal discomfort as debug output. That moment when you're so deep in debugging hell that your physical discomfort makes it into your print statements. We've all been there at 3 AM, except most of us have the good sense to delete those lines before asking for help. Pro tip: If your balls are itching, scratch them before posting your code to Stack Overflow. Your code review and your personal hygiene should remain separate concerns.

Groundbreaking personality test just dropped. Turns out no matter which programming language you choose, you're still a nerd. MATLAB users get the special "engineer and a nerd" combo badge, while Fortran enthusiasts earn the prestigious "old and a nerd" achievement. The rest of us? Just regular nerds. Shocking revelation that absolutely nobody saw coming.

The evolution of C-based languages depicted through increasingly intense reactions. C is met with boredom. C++ sparks interest. C# triggers excitement. Then we hit whatever unholy abomination C with a snowflake is supposed to be, causing brain meltdown. Finally, C with a tesseract dimension cube transforms our developer into a transcendent being who can see through time and space. Classic progression from "I can code" to "I have become one with the compiler."

Ah yes, the classic "let me solve this simple problem with the most unnecessarily complex solution possible" approach. Two mutually recursive functions to check if a number is even or odd? This has ChatGPT's fingerprints all over it. Meanwhile, every developer with more than 3 brain cells is screaming: return (n % 2 == 0); and calling it a day. This is what happens when you ask AI to "make it elegant" or "optimize this function." You get code that looks impressive in a technical interview but would get you publicly shamed in a code review.

Romance is cute and all, but have you ever spent 96 hours straight hunting down a missing semicolon? That compiler error keeping you up at night, chugging energy drinks while your bloodshot eyes scan 2,000 lines of code for the fifth time. And then—at hour 97—you find it hiding between two perfectly innocent statements. The sweet relief is better than any relationship could ever be. Until the next syntax error shows up tomorrow.

The perfect metaphor for what happens when you're such a terrible person that you break the data type itself. In programming, integer overflow occurs when a number exceeds its allocated memory space and wraps around to negative values. This guy was so awful that his "badness" score went beyond the maximum negative value and wrapped right back to appearing positive – giving him the biggest halo in heaven. It's like that one dev who writes such horrific code that the static analyzer crashes and reports zero errors. Congrats, Satan, you've officially broken the morality compiler.