Blocked By GitHub Outage

The hardest choices require the strongest wills... and the most questionable git practices. Nothing quite captures the silent horror of development like nuking an entire branch to fix a merge conflict. Sure, you could have spent hours carefully resolving each conflict line by line, but why bother when you can just snap your fingers and make half your codebase disappear? The staging branch was a small price to pay for salvation. Your team might be planning your funeral right now, but hey—the build is passing!

When you try to rebase your feature branch onto main but forget to resolve conflicts first. The pain is real! That moment when Git screams "CONFLICT (content):" and your beautiful code turns into a battlefield of <<<<<<< and >>>>>>> markers. Even basketball legends can't handle that kind of stress. Just like LeBron, we all need a moment to facepalm when our ambitious git operations go terribly wrong. Next time, maybe stick with a simple pull request and let someone else deal with the merge hell.

Isn't it just wonderful how tech culture works? You can pull 80-hour weeks, sacrifice your social life, and earn that "Senior Distinguished Principal Architect" title with the compensation package to match... but push one tiny commit with a missing semicolon at 2 AM and that's your legacy forever. The industry has this magical ability to forget all your achievements but maintain a detailed historical record of that time you accidentally deployed to production instead of staging. Your Git blame is eternal, but your Git praise? Practically nonexistent. Next time someone asks why developers have impostor syndrome, just point them to this meme and walk away slowly.

The infamous Linus Torvalds, creator of Linux, smiling after one of his legendary rants about code quality, with the caption "Sorry about the rant" - followed by Obi-Wan Kenobi saying "That's... why I'm here." Let's be honest, Linus's brutal code reviews and profanity-laden emails are basically open source's version of appointment television. The man once told NVIDIA "f*** you" with a middle finger on camera. His rants aren't bugs—they're features. We don't attend his talks for the technical insights; we're there for the verbal carnage. The rest of us mere mortals have to be diplomatic about garbage code. Meanwhile, Linus gets to live the dream of saying exactly what every tech lead is thinking when they see nested if statements seven levels deep.

Nobody tells you the truth in engineering school. We don't implement CI/CD because it's "industry best practice" or because some architecture astronaut said so. We do it for that sweet, sweet dopamine hit when all the build checks turn green. It's basically developer cocaine. The satisfaction of seeing five successful builds in a row might be the only thing keeping some of us from switching to careers in gardening.

When a developer thinks they're a Git wizard but hasn't quite mastered the dark arts... git push --force is basically the programming equivalent of saying "I know what I'm doing" right before catastrophe strikes. It's that command that overwrites remote history with your local changes, consequences be damned! The poor soul in this comic learned the hard way that Git doesn't come with an "undo apocalypse" button. One minute you're confidently force-pushing changes, the next you've erased months of your colleagues' work and suddenly everyone's Slack status changes to "contemplating violence." And just like that bike crash, there's no graceful recovery from nuking your team's repository. You just lie there, contemplating your career choices while frantically Googling "how to restore git history please help urgent!!!"