I Need This For My Github PR Approvals

Behold, the modern developer in their natural habitat! This isn't just coding—it's vibe coding . Who needs security best practices when you can just commit API keys directly to GitHub? It's like hiding your house key under the doormat, except the doormat is indexed by Google. Documentation? Tests? Please. Those are for developers who don't name their variables with the perfect aesthetic. Why write tests when you can spend three hours curating the perfect lo-fi playlist that you'll listen to while not writing tests? The true art form isn't solving problems—it's creating new PRs to fix your previous PRs while your IDE looks absolutely fabulous with that custom theme you spent a day configuring. And when everything is literally on fire? That's the perfect time to update your GitHub profile README. Priorities, people!

The classic Scooby-Doo unmasking scene but make it debugging! The moment you pull back that ghost sheet only to find... yourself. Surprise! The call is coming from inside the house! Nothing quite captures that existential crisis when git blame points directly back at your commit from three weeks ago. "I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for my meddling self and that pesky version control!"

The iceberg of developer productivity! That tiny visible tip labeled "Actually Writing Code" represents the 15 minutes of actual coding you do in a day. Meanwhile, lurking beneath the surface is the massive time-sink monster called "Setting Up The Local Environment" - that hellscape where you spend 7 hours fighting dependency conflicts, configuring Docker containers that refuse to play nice, and Googling cryptic error messages that have exactly one result on StackOverflow from 2014 with no answers. The real programming job description should just be "Professional Environment Configurator who occasionally types a semicolon."

Ah, the classic door handle labeled "PUSH" – the physical manifestation of what happens when you try to force a git push to main without pulling first. That feeling when you're shoving with all your might, wondering why the hell it's not working, only to realize you needed to sync your local branch first. Ten years of coding experience and I still sometimes stand there like an idiot, pushing on a door that clearly requires me to pull changes before I can proceed. The universe's way of saying "merge conflicts incoming."

The duality of code reviews perfectly captured! On the left, you're the sweet innocent chihuahua in a pink sweater, smiling hopefully as you submit your code for review. "Please be gentle with my 3 AM spaghetti code masterpiece!" But when someone asks you to review their code? Suddenly you transform into the demon chihuahua on the right, teeth bared, ready to tear apart every unnecessary variable and poorly named function. "You called this function 'doStuff()'? I'm about to end your whole career." For the uninitiated, "LGTM" stands for "Looks Good To Me" - the four letters every developer dreams of seeing in their pull request... right before the reviewer adds "...except for these 47 issues I found."

The bell curve of git commit sanity. On the left, the blissfully ignorant junior dev who squashes multiple feature changes into a single commit. On the right, the battle-hardened senior who does the same because life's too short. And in the middle? The poor mid-level developer meticulously separating each feature into its own commit, following best practices that nobody actually reads in the git log. The sweet irony of development—you either die a hero or live long enough to stop caring about commit granularity.