Lump Based Development

Ah, the legendary GitHub pull request to rewrite Twitter in COBOL! For the uninitiated, COBOL is a programming language from the 1950s that's still running critical banking systems and government infrastructure, but about as suited for modern social media as a steam engine is for space travel. The satirical PR suggestion is pure comedy gold—imagine handling Twitter's real-time feeds and media processing with a language designed when computers took up entire rooms and "memory" meant physical punch cards! The 17 thumbs-up reactions show there are plenty of developers with a sense of humor (or masochistic tendencies). Meanwhile, somewhere a mainframe administrator is breaking into a cold sweat thinking about the 400-column code needed just to display a single tweet.

The brave warrior claims to "fear no man," but immediately cowers at the mention of "git rebase." And rightfully so! Rebasing rewrites commit history—like a time traveler stepping on a butterfly, you might accidentally create 47 merge conflicts and an alternate timeline where your project never existed. Senior devs break into cold sweats when forced to rebase a long-lived feature branch. The command should come with its own horror movie soundtrack and a dialog box that asks "Are you ABSOLUTELY certain? Your teammates might hunt you down."

Look at these American cloud giants getting the Toy Story treatment. After years of Stockholm syndrome relationships with AWS, Google Cloud, and Azure, European dev teams are finally having their "Jessie moment." Nothing says "I've reconsidered our toxic relationship" like migrating to Hetzner after your AWS bill suddenly includes a 25% tariff surcharge. Sure, the documentation might be in German, but it's still more comprehensible than Lambda's pricing structure. Scaleway doesn't have 47 different database options? Good. I didn't understand the difference between the last 46 anyway.

The Noah's Ark of code sources! At the top, we've got the majestic elephant (StackOverflow) carrying us through floods of bugs, the wise but dusty Documentation nobody reads, the giraffe (YouTube tutorials) stretching the truth but somehow working, GitHub code that's supposedly "production-ready," and the professor's theoretical perfection that falls apart in real life. Then there's your friend's code (which you secretly judge while copying), and your actual code (that embarrassing mess you hide from the world). But when the client shows up? Suddenly you're presenting that bizarre hybrid monstrosity—a chimera of StackOverflow answers, YouTube hacks, and panic-induced workarounds that somehow functions. And the client stares at your Frankenstein creation thinking "what the hell is this?" The true engineering skill isn't writing perfect code—it's making your abomination look intentional during the demo.

That smug little face says it all. The cat (labeled "Cursor AI") sits there with that self-satisfied grin while staring at the waffle ("The code that broke production") like it's about to devour the evidence. Nothing quite matches the special feeling of watching your teammate's cursor float around the screen in real-time as they confidently add that one magical line of code that brings down the entire system. "Trust me, this will fix it!" they say, right before Slack explodes with alerts and your phone starts having a seizure with PagerDuty notifications. But of course, this "didn't happen at your company." Just like how nobody ever pushed to main on Friday at 4:55 PM.

The transparent keyboard cover—humanity's greatest defense against feline code contributions. Some developers spend years debugging their applications, while others just need to prevent their cat from accidentally pushing to production. Notice how the cat still tries to assert dominance by standing on the keyboard anyway. Nature, uh, finds a way... to ruin your git commit history.