Who's Gonna Tell Him

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!

Content SENIOR DEV PUT IT IN BACKLOG JUNIOR DEV SO WE CAN FIX IT LATER, RIGHT? SO WE CAN FIX IT LATER, RIGHT?

Four years of higher education and your graduation cap blue-screens. Classic. The "99% Complete" progress bar is the chef's kiss of irony - so close to freedom yet still encountering fatal errors. Every CS graduate's nightmare realized: even your academic achievement needs to restart and install updates before you can use it. At least it crashed with a smile.

When asked "How does it feel knowing that the software you work on will probably break soon?" the ex-Twitter engineer's response is simply: "Normal." This is peak software engineering nihilism! After Elon's takeover and mass layoffs, Twitter's remaining code base is basically held together with digital duct tape and a prayer. The single-word answer perfectly captures what every developer secretly thinks: our code is always one deploy away from catastrophic failure. It's not pessimism—it's just Tuesday in tech.

That hollow feeling when you finally finish the side project you've been obsessing over for months. The void stares back at you as you realize you've got nothing left to debug at 2AM. What now? Start another project that will consume your soul, or actually get some sleep for once? Who are we kidding—you're already opening a new GitHub repo.

No amount of QA testing will ever match the sheer destructive power of end users in production. You spent months testing every edge case, fixed all known bugs, and deployed your "stable" release with confidence. Then day one hits and somehow users find seven new ways to crash your app that should be physically impossible. It's like they have a supernatural talent for finding that one scenario your test suite missed. "I must break you" isn't just a threat—it's the unspoken mission statement of every user who downloads your app.