Failing To Push My Own Repo

The eternal shortcut of the desperate developer. You're asked to fix lint errors in a merge request, but instead of actually fixing the underlying code issues, you just slap an eslint-disable-next-line comment and call it a day. It's like putting a piece of tape over your check engine light and considering the car "fixed." Sure, the PR will pass now, but we all know what you did... and we've all done it too when deadlines loom. Technical debt? That's a problem for future you!

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.

The evolution from "normal person" to "command line warrior" in one image. Left side: filenames with spaces and capitalization that make terminal users cry tears of blood. Right side: the enlightened path of snake_case and underscores that won't break your scripts at 2AM. Nothing says "I've seen things" like renaming all your files to avoid escaping spaces with backslashes. The real rite of passage isn't learning to code—it's learning why "IMPORTNAT DOCUMENT!!!" makes seasoned developers twitch uncontrollably.

Ever opened a PR from an AI and seen comments like // This is a for loop that iterates through the array ? Welcome to the world of AI-generated documentation—where stating the painfully obvious is considered helpful. It's like having that one intern who explains what a keyboard is every time you sit down to code. Next up: ChatGPT will helpfully inform you that your function returns a value and that variables store data. Revolutionary stuff.

Ah, the classic "we have food at home" meme but for developers! Kid wants professional CI/CD pipelines, mom says no because there's "CI/CD at home" - which turns out to be a janky collection of config files and shell scripts cobbled together by some poor soul who just wanted to automate deployments without learning Jenkins. It's the equivalent of calling a stick tied to a rock "advanced weaponry." That homemade CI/CD solution is one failed deployment away from bringing the entire production environment crashing down faster than a junior dev's confidence during their first code review.

The ultimate trust exercise isn't falling backward into someone's arms—it's watching a coworker create an alias that maps git to rm -rf / . For the uninitiated, this command essentially tells your computer "please delete everything, and don't ask questions." The growing horror on the guy's face perfectly captures that moment when you realize your entire filesystem is one accidental Git command away from digital oblivion. This isn't just shooting yourself in the foot—it's nuking the entire continent you're standing on and calling it a "productivity hack."