Another Day On LinkedIn

Game developers know the pain! The guy is happily riding his bike with a stick, then suddenly the stick passes through his body like a ghost because—surprise—no collision detection! In Unity and other game engines, forgetting to add a capsule collider is basically inviting physics to take a vacation. That stick should've bonked him on the head, but instead, it's phasing through him like it's quantum tunneling. Every game dev has had that moment of "why isn't this object interacting with anything?!" only to realize they forgot the most basic component.

The bravest soul in the tech universe, sitting there with a "4K IS OVERRATED" sign in 2023. This is like walking into a gaming convention with "RGB lighting causes cancer" written on your forehead. Meanwhile, this dude's probably coding on a 720p monitor from 2008 and telling everyone his eyes "can't see the difference anyway." Sure buddy, and I'm still using dial-up because broadband is "just a fad."

The universal law of parental needs: they're inversely proportional to your gaming availability. You ask if help is needed, they say no, and the millisecond you commit to a ranked match that you can't pause, suddenly they're performing an interpretive dance of urgent requests. It's like they have a sixth sense for detecting the exact moment your ELO rating is on the line. The worst part? This cosmic joke transcends gaming—it applies to critical git pushes, database migrations, and that moment when you finally understand a complex algorithm. The universe simply cannot allow uninterrupted focus.

First panel: "Yay, no Creation Engine!" *happy face* Second panel: "Oh god, it's Unreal Engine 5..." *horrified face* Classic game dev monkey's paw. Bethesda finally ditches their ancient, duct-taped engine that's been spawning bugs since Morrowind, only to adopt the engine that'll turn Elder Scrolls 6 into another cookie-cutter open world with the exact same lighting and physics as every other AAA game. Next they'll tell us it has a battle royale mode and NFT collectibles. Just waiting for the day we get Skyrim: Fortnite Edition.

The sweet, sweet dopamine rush of getting those first 40 downloads on your passion project! That formal announcement energy when your GitHub repo finally gets noticed by someone other than your alt accounts. Game modders live for those metrics—each download representing a real human who thought "yeah, I'll give this random internet person's code a try on my perfectly functioning game." The elegant frog just makes it 10x funnier because that's exactly how you feel announcing your minor achievement in the Discord server where everyone else is sharing their 10k+ download milestones.

Remember when we thought these janky polygons were the peak of technology? In 2000, we'd sit there amazed at what was essentially a potato with hair clipping through a horse's neck. Now I'm disappointed when my 4K ray-traced game drops below 120fps. The best part? Those old games actually shipped without needing 50GB day-one patches. They just worked... mostly... if you ignored the nightmare fuel character models.