The Gabe Cube

The gaming industry's pricing strategy in a nutshell. Pre-ordering a game at full price only to watch it get a 30% discount a week after launch is the ultimate clown transformation. That $90 Super Deluxe Edition with "exclusive DRM" is just the circus music getting louder. The real game is waiting six months for the inevitable 70% off sale while your friends who pre-ordered are still dealing with day-one patches. Veterans know the drill: patient gamers always win, but we still somehow end up with rainbow wigs in our Steam libraries.

Finally decoded Reddit's voting system! Upvote for "you're on Team NVIDIA" and downvote for "how dare you prefer AMD." The GPU holy wars continue to rage while I'm still coding on integrated graphics that struggle to render VS Code. The real winner? My electricity bill.

Oh, nothing screams "professional codebase" quite like opening your source code to the public and having every single comment be an existential crisis wrapped in profanity. Someone named Garry is having a COMPLETE meltdown in the comments, questioning the very fabric of reality with gems like "why the fuck does this exist" and "this is fucking disgusting." Meanwhile, we've got warnings about not storing destroyed instances "for fuck sake," path comparison methods that are apparently a cosmic joke, and buffer sizes set to absolutely unhinged values because, and I quote, "fuck it, let's set these to insane values." The cherry on top? A beautiful Log.Error("Fucked"); followed by a return statement. Not "error occurred" or "operation failed"—just straight up "Fucked." That's the kind of raw, unfiltered honesty you get when developers think their code will never see the light of day. And now it's open-source! The transparency we deserve but definitely didn't ask for. 💀

The ultimate recursive procrastination loop! This starterpack brutally exposes the indie game dev lifecycle with surgical precision. Instead of actually coding their game, devs spend countless hours making elaborate docs about worldbuilding, obsessing over engine choices, refreshing wishlists for dopamine hits, and watching YouTube tutorials they'll never implement. The "just write a book guy" with 50+ Google Docs but zero engine experience is painfully accurate. And that "thinking about a name for 2 months" hit way too close to home. Meanwhile, the "backseat dev" who thinks every problem is solved with "just add a shader" or "just add multiplayer" exists in every Discord server known to mankind. The imposter syndrome is real—nobody understands how much work goes into making a game until they've stared blankly at their code at 3AM wondering why their character controller is suddenly launching their protagonist into the stratosphere. And of course, there's always that one dev who buys every asset pack but never ships anything. The irony? Creating this starterpack was itself a form of procrastination. Meta-procrastination at its finest!

The eternal RGB hardware divide: hardcore gamers who've spent hours troubleshooting driver conflicts and BIOS issues just to make their fancy lights work properly, versus the sweet summer children who just think "ooh, rainbow computer." Every time I see a new RGB component hit the market, I can feel my blood pressure rising. Sure, they look nice in product photos, but nobody mentions the proprietary software that'll crash your system, the incompatibilities between brands, or how they'll randomly reset to default rainbow puke during important presentations. Yet here I am, still buying them. Maybe I'm the real clown.

The classic GitHub commit message that says it all. When diving into Vulkan (that notoriously complex graphics API that makes OpenGL look like a children's toy), this dev's only documentation is a README file warning potential recruiters about the horror show inside. It's the programming equivalent of those "Abandon All Hope" signs at the entrance to Hell. The best part? They committed it just 3 minutes ago - probably right after realizing their code is an unholy abomination that would make even seasoned graphics programmers weep.