The Accidental Telltale FPS Counter

The code is literally importing a module called wtf_am_i_doing with a goto statement in Python. That's the programming equivalent of bringing a chainsaw to perform surgery. Python deliberately avoided including goto because it's considered harmful to code structure - yet someone created an entire package to reintroduce this programming sin. And then used it to create spaghetti code that jumps around like a caffeinated squirrel. The execution flow is completely unhinged - we start at main() , jump to 'start' , print a message, jump to 'middle' , print another message, then jump to 'end' . It's like watching someone solve a maze by tunneling through the walls instead of following the path. The worst part? It actually works. This is the kind of code that makes senior developers wake up screaming at night.

Content Migraine Hypertension Stress Reading my own code

Windows file deletion is basically a soap opera. You ask to delete one simple file and suddenly Windows is like "OMG there's DRAMA! Someone's using this file right now!" But when you ask who's using it? Windows goes full witness protection program. "I've been sworn to secrecy!" Meanwhile, you're just sitting there wondering if your computer is hosting secret file parties behind your back. The best part? That file is probably just locked by Windows Explorer itself, which is basically like your roommate saying they can't tell you who ate your leftovers while they have sauce on their face.

Pre-ChatGPT: Developers channeling Neo from The Matrix, bending reality and code to their will, fighting bugs with superhuman focus. Post-ChatGPT: Just a sad cat begging an AI to draw pictures because we've forgotten how to solve our own problems. The evolution of debugging is complete - from coding wizards to glorified prompt engineers asking "pretty please fix my code." The irony? ChatGPT can't even draw that image. Not even a stick figure. Welcome to dependency hell's newest circle.

Professor: "It's semicolon; we will hardly use it." Fast forward two weeks and suddenly these freshmen are putting semicolons after every line of code like their grade depends on it. Nothing quite like the trauma of your first compiler error that could've been fixed with a simple ";". The irony is that after 10 years in the industry, I now use languages where semicolons are optional and I'm back to hardly using them. Full circle, baby.

The eternal developer paradox: fixing one bug only to unleash digital Armageddon. That moment when you triumphantly squash that pesky issue, only for your product manager to ask the forbidden follow-up question. And suddenly you realize your "fix" was more like introducing a butterfly effect that cascaded through your entire codebase. Who needs chaos theory when you have debugging? Next time just answer "it's complicated" and slowly back away from your desk. Works 60% of the time, every time.