When Your Computer Summons The Digital Demons

Oh, the TRAGEDY of code amnesia! 😩 You write this MASTERPIECE of logic at 3 AM, fueled by nothing but energy drinks and sheer determination. Your brain and the divine forces of the universe are the ONLY witnesses to your genius. Fast forward two weeks later, and you're staring at your own creation like it's written in hieroglyphics from another dimension! Even the CAT knows you're doomed! That moment when your past self has BETRAYED your future self by not leaving a SINGLE comment. Now you're stuck in documentation purgatory, and your only hope is a séance to contact your former, more enlightened self!

The duality of every programmer when family asks for tech support. First panel: confident, top-hat wearing gentleman pondering a printer issue like it's beneath his intellectual capacity. Second panel: same gentleman gleefully announcing "NOT A CLUE!" with the enthusiasm of someone escaping a trap. Third panel: the crushing realization that he's now obligated to try anyway because he's "the computer person." Being able to build microservices architecture doesn't mean I know why your printer is making that weird grinding noise. It's like asking a neurosurgeon to fix your kitchen sink because "you're a doctor, right?"

When a developer finally musters the courage to hear the harsh truth about testing, only to immediately burst into tears upon learning that—gasp—proper testing could have prevented most of their bugs. It's like finding out Santa isn't real, except instead of presents, you've been getting production outages and 3AM emergency calls. The audacity of suggesting developers should test their code before pushing it! Next you'll tell me documentation is useful too!

Nothing strikes fear into a developer's soul quite like inheriting a "vibe-coded" codebase. You know the type—written by someone who was "feeling it" at 2AM, fueled by energy drinks and hubris. No comments, variable names like magicNumber42 and iKnowWhatImDoing , and functions that would make Cthulhu weep. Just like Arthas from Warcraft deciding an entire city needed cleansing, sometimes the only rational response to legacy code is total annihilation. Rewrite from scratch? Absolutely justified. That's not technical debt—it's a technical crime scene.

Content SOFTWARE ENGINEER CHEAT SHEET Source:TheCooperReview.com It's a non-trivial amount of work I won't be able to copy and paste This is a temporary This is a permanent solution solution lIl be finished by Monday That's funny Do you want it done fast or do you want it done right? Just file a bug I won't tell you which Monday I literally hate you It will be neither I have no idea what you're saying right now That's an expansion forgot you needed that feature of scope We can't test that We can but we won't I'll just put it behind a flag for now It will never ship I can't realistically estimate that - I don't know how estimates work I don't think users will care about that have dinner reservations at 8 This is an Alpha release It doesn't work This is a Beta release We fixed a lot of bugs but it still doesn't work I'll add that to the I'm hoping you'll forget about it backlog We are focusing on - I'm going to go take a nap high priority fixes only

Oh. My. GOD. The DRAMA of JavaScript's this keyword is the ultimate betrayal! You're sitting there, coding away, when suddenly your program implodes and you scream "F*** THIS!" in righteous fury—only to realize the tragic irony that you literally have NO IDEA what "this" even is in your code! 😱 It's like screaming at a ghost you can't see! For the JavaScript-curious, this is that slippery little devil that changes meaning depending on context—sometimes it's the window, sometimes it's an object, sometimes it's whatever random thing bound to it. And don't even get me started on arrow functions changing all the rules! The AUDACITY!