A Small Sacrifice For Git Salvation

The duality of development in one perfect image! On the left, we have the disheveled cat representing your code during development—messy, unkempt, and barely holding together with duct tape and wishful thinking. But somehow it works! Then on the right, the same cat in a tuxedo represents that exact same code when you're ready to push it to Git—suddenly all professional and fancy, as if it wasn't a complete disaster zone five minutes ago. The transformation is purely cosmetic though—underneath that formal attire is still the same chaotic code that you're praying nobody reviews too closely during the pull request.

Welcome to the Linux kernel's GitHub page, where the pull requests are apparently doubling as Tinder profiles. Nothing says "I understand open source contribution" like announcing your relationship status in a PR title. What's next? "Fixed memory leak, also I do CrossFit"? "Optimized driver code, btw I'm vegan"? "Patched security vulnerability, anyone want to see my cat pics?" And 504 open PRs? Linus must be having an aneurysm somewhere. The only thing getting merged here is desperation with code.

The eternal duality of developer urgency! Your product manager frantically messages: "Need this PR merged ASAP!!!" But what they don't realize is you've mastered the art of interpreting "ASAP" as "As Slow As Possible." Like Skeletor here, you'll confidently declare your alternative interpretation before quietly slipping away into the shadows. That urgent feature request? It'll be ready when it's ready... which coincidentally aligns perfectly with your existing plans to refactor that completely unrelated module first. The best part? When they finally catch up with you three sprints later, you can just blame it on "unexpected technical complexities" and "proper testing protocols." Checkmate, management.

When the junior dev runs git push --force and the entire codebase history gets obliterated. That exit sign is basically your team's sanity making a swift departure. Seven years of commit history? Gone. Just like those doors. This is why we have code reviews and branch protection rules, folks. Not because we don't trust you, but because we've all been that person who thought "yeah, I know what I'm doing" right before disaster struck.

That innocent smile when you submit a PR at 4:59pm thinking it'll be merged before EOD. Meanwhile, the reviewer is holding all the +4 cards ready to hit you with "needs more tests," "fix formatting," "add comments," and the classic "why did you implement it this way?" Your weekend plans just got UNO'd.

The quintessential developer evolution captured in one perfect meme! Junior devs frantically try to memorize what every line of their code actually does, while senior devs have transcended to a higher plane of existence where they just... don't. After years of typing git commit -m "fix stuff" and console.log('why god why') , you eventually reach the zen-like state where your fingers write code your brain doesn't even fully comprehend anymore. The code works? Ship it! Documentation? That's what comments were invented for (that you'll never actually write).