Born In The Wrong Branch

When your teammate keeps submitting pull requests that just update the README.md file over and over again. Nothing says "I'm contributing!" quite like seven identical commits that add absolutely nothing of value. Meanwhile, the actual codebase is on fire, but hey, at least the documentation has another typo fixed! The best part? They'll probably list "Git expert" on their resume after this masterclass in version control.

Ah, the classic programming trivia game that's trolling newbies! The answer is obviously "Hello, world" (highlighted in green), but the joke's in the other options. "Git gud" is both a gaming taunt AND a version control pun. "Download Linux" is what every Stack Overflow answer suggests when you have a Windows problem. And "Error 404" is what your career becomes after forgetting a semicolon. The title "Git Gud" is extra spicy because it's telling beginners they need to master Git (arguably more terrifying than any algorithm).

Ah, the unmistakable signature of a junior developer's code comments! That stop sign with the helpful clarification "THIS IS A STOP SIGN" perfectly captures the redundant commenting style that senior devs silently judge. It's like writing i++; // increments i by 1 or // The following function calculates the sum right above a function literally named calculateSum() . The code review gods weep silently as another obvious comment gets committed to the repo. Self-documenting code? Never heard of her.

Regular ghosts? Mildly startling. Force pushing to delete the master branch? That's the kind of terror that makes grown developers cry. The ghost was just practicing, but that last command is the real horror story. Nothing says "I've made a terrible mistake" quite like accidentally nuking your production branch at 4:59 PM on a Friday.

The perfect encapsulation of that developer who writes the most chaotic, uncommented spaghetti code imaginable and then has the audacity to say "it works, doesn't it?" with a pirate's grin. These "vibe coders" treat programming best practices like Captain Barbossa treats the pirate code—mere suggestions that can be ignored when inconvenient. Their git commits probably read "fixed stuff" and their variable names are single letters that make perfect sense... to absolutely no one but themselves. And yet somehow, against all odds, their monstrosities run in production while the rest of us cry into our meticulously formatted, well-documented code that just crashed.

The DRAMATIC DIFFERENCE between hearing "you're absolutely right" the first time versus the 985th time during code reviews! 😭 That top panel is the PURE JOY of your first accepted pull request - you're practically FLOATING on cloud nine! But that bottom panel? That's the soul-crushing deadness in your eyes after submitting your 985th fix and your senior dev STILL manages to find something wrong. "You're absolutely right!" you say through gritted teeth while secretly plotting to "accidentally" delete the entire codebase. The emotional journey from eager puppy to dead-inside zombie is just *chef's kiss* relatable.