Gonna Run It In My Github Actions Later

When you install a new game but forget that your gaming rig needs to compile shaders before you can actually play. That moment when you hit "Play" all excited, only to be stopped dead in your tracks by the dreaded "Compiling Shaders: 1 of 9378" progress bar. The betrayal! Your evening plans suddenly held hostage by the GPU equivalent of watching paint dry. And somehow it's always when you've only got a small window of free time to play. Those shaders might as well be compiling your disappointment in real-time.

Ah, the inevitable collision of programming syntax and Gen Z slang. On the left, we have traditional C# with its boring "public float" and "return false". On the right, the dystopian future where exceptions become "find_out(Tea t)" and error handling is just "yeet". The funniest part? Some poor senior developer somewhere just had a minor stroke looking at "vibe_check" replacing an if statement. And honestly, "its_giving cap" as a boolean return value is disturbingly intuitive. Mark my words: in 5 years, we'll all be debugging with "no cap fr fr" comments and Stack Overflow will be full of questions about proper "rizz" variable initialization.

Behold, the pinnacle of game development: storing your entire storyline in a global array and using hardcoded indices to track plot points. Because who needs databases or state machines when you can just check if storyline_array[367] == 1 to determine if you've already done something? The real masterpiece is using instance_destroy() as your universal solution. Lunch with Fern? Destroy the instance. Already completed a task? Destroy the instance. Relationship problems? You guessed it— instance_destroy() . Meanwhile, poor Rhode gets the "Do Nothing" treatment. Clearly the developer's favorite character won the popularity contest. This code is basically the digital equivalent of writing your novel's plot points on sticky notes, scattering them across the floor, and numbering them randomly.

The eternal developer graveyard of unfinished projects claims another victim. That suggestion to "finish your last project" might as well be suggesting cold fusion or dividing by zero. The look of pure existential dread says it all - we don't start projects, we merely begin permanent relationships with GitHub repos we'll eventually ghost. That folder labeled "projects" on your drive is basically a digital hospice where good intentions go to flatline.

The perfect visual metaphor for gamedev codebases everywhere. Like the Cat in the Hat, your code is juggling fish, cake, books, and milk while somehow not collapsing into a heap of runtime errors. Nobody knows how it works. Nobody dares refactor it. One wrong move and that delightful game experience turns into a stack trace from hell. But hey, as long as the players are having fun, who cares if your inheritance hierarchy looks like a family tree from medieval royalty? Ship it now, clean it never. The first rule of technical debt club.

Ah yes, the pinnacle of debugging sophistication. Why spend 20 minutes configuring breakpoints and stepping through code when you can just pepper your codebase with Debug.Log("asdfasdf") and watch the console like it's reality TV? Sure, your senior developer might judge you for not using "proper" debugging techniques, but nothing beats the raw efficiency of keyboard-mashing a string that stands out in the log. If it works, it works. And let's be honest, we all know which line hit when we see "asdfasdf" scroll by.