It's So Simple: Just Follow Each Other

Junior developer: "How do I remember what my code does?" Senior developer: "That's the neat part. You don't." The true hallmark of experience isn't perfect memory—it's the calm acceptance that you'll inevitably forget everything you write. That's why we have comments, documentation, and git blame. The senior's mustache contains more wisdom than all of StackOverflow combined.

That look when a junior dev tries the "asking for a friend" approach after pushing their API keys to GitHub. The senior's face says it all: "I know what you did, and now we're both having a terrible day." The real question isn't how to remove it—it's how many services you need to rotate keys for before the CEO finds out about the $20K AWS bill from the crypto miners who found it first.

Ah yes, the ancient art of strategic bug deployment. Because nothing says "job security" quite like waiting for the one person who actually understands the legacy codebase to board their flight to Cancun before releasing that critical production bug. The genius here is the timing. Senior dev on vacation means: no code reviews that actually catch things, no "well actually..." corrections in Slack, and most importantly, no one to fix your mess when everything inevitably catches fire. It's the developer equivalent of committing arson and then immediately leaving the country. Pro tip: If you're the senior dev reading this, never announce your vacation dates in advance. Junior devs are watching, waiting, and their Git branches are getting suspiciously active.

Senior devs have this remarkable talent for forgetting their own code. First comes the righteous indignation ("WHO WROTE THIS CODE?"), then the escalating fury ("WHICH IDIOT WROTE THIS?"), followed by the team's gentle reminder that it was, in fact, their masterpiece. The final panel's silent "OH" captures that beautiful moment when you realize you're yelling at your past self. Git blame is truly the greatest humbler in software engineering.

The AI ethics bot just witnessed a child.kill() function and had a full-blown existential crisis. Classic case of "context matters" in programming. The bot's like "I can't assist with violence!" while the code's just handling thread management. Look at that beautiful irony - a recursively named AI refusing to help with perfectly innocent code because it contains a murder-sounding method. Six years of code reviews and I've never seen an AI clutch its digital pearls this hard.

Eight years of architecture decisions, three frameworks, and countless refactors... all resting on that one script Jerry wrote during his internship in 2016 that nobody understands but somehow keeps the entire billing system alive. The script that runs at 3 AM every Tuesday from his personal Raspberry Pi under his desk that he forgot to mention when he left for Google. The script that finally decided today was the day to give up. The technical debt collectors have arrived, and they're not accepting payment plans.