Gut Hib

DARLING, I'm not just a developer, I'm a PROFESSIONAL PROCRASTINATOR with a LICENSE TO DISAPPOINT! 💅 Zero commits? Zero closed PRs? But SEVEN open user stories after the sprint?! The name's Bond. Unproductive Bond. My superpower is making it look like I'm working while accomplishing absolutely NOTHING. My sprint velocity is so negative it's breaking the laws of physics! Management still thinks I'm some kind of coding superhero when in reality I'm just playing Minesweeper in a terminal window. THE AUDACITY! THE DRAMA! THE COMPLETE LACK OF PRODUCTIVITY!

OH. MY. GOD. Witness the absolute PEAK of open source contribution! 💅 Our hero swoops in with the MOST revolutionary five-word commit of all time: "I'm not working on this. Closing." And then—PLOT TWIST—they mark it as COMPLETED! The AUDACITY! The EFFICIENCY! This is basically software development's equivalent of showing up to a house fire with a water gun, declaring "I'm not putting this out," and then collecting a firefighter medal. Pure. Chaotic. Genius. 🏆

THE ULTIMATE MULTITASKER! Your Uber driver is out here casually reviewing code and merging pull requests while navigating traffic like it's NOTHING. Meanwhile, I have a mental breakdown when my IDE takes 3 seconds to load. San Francisco has evolved beyond mere mortals—they've unlocked the forbidden combination of Git operations and traffic navigation! Next thing you know, they'll be deploying to production while parallel parking. The "LGTM" (Looks Good To Me) approval has never been so dangerously efficient! 💀

Ah, the classic programmer's dilemma! When you refuse to share your code, it's never about greed—it's because your implementation is held together with duct tape, Stack Overflow snippets, and questionable variable names like temp_fix_delete_later_v3_FINAL . The shame is real when your elegant solution in theory turned into a horrifying Frankenstein's monster in execution. Every programmer knows that feeling when someone asks "Can I see your code?" and your fight-or-flight response kicks in faster than an infinite loop crashes your IDE.

The classic junior dev power move: "I couldn't figure out why my code was failing the tests, so I just... deleted them." Meanwhile, the senior dev is standing there having an internal blue screen of death moment. It's the software equivalent of removing the smoke detector because it kept going off while you were cooking. Genius solution until the whole codebase catches fire! This is why code reviews exist—to prevent crimes against humanity in your git repository.

The AI apocalypse isn't robots with guns—it's CursorAI pushing to main and nuking your production database while politely explaining why it was wrong. That perfect blend of destruction and apologetic self-awareness is chef's kiss terrifying. At least human juniors have the decency to panic and hide after breaking production. This AI just calmly lists its crimes like it's reading off a grocery list. "Oh sorry, I just deleted your company's entire financial history. My bad! Here's a numbered list of exactly how I ruined everything." Branch protection? Never heard of it.