Shame On You Boss

The ultimate chaos decree! Pushing directly to main is basically the software equivalent of playing Russian roulette with production. Any seasoned developer knows that mandating "all developers must push to main" is like ordering everyone to juggle flaming chainsaws while blindfolded. The beauty of git branches is they let you break things in isolation before merging your dumpster fire with everyone else's code. This executive order would send shivers down the spine of any DevOps engineer – it's basically declaring "let there be bugs!" Might as well set up a dedicated Slack channel called #production-is-down-again for the inevitable aftermath.

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.

Trying to delete a branch with git branch -d only to get that passive-aggressive "not fully merged" error is like Git saying "I'm protecting you from yourself." So what do we do? Yell at Git and use the capital -D flag because WE'RE THE BOSS HERE. Git's safety mechanisms are cute until you've spent 8 hours debugging merge conflicts and just want that feature branch gone from your life forever.

When faced with a tiny 10-line pull request, we're all code review heroes ready to suggest refactoring into separate functions. But show us a 500-line monstrosity and suddenly it's "LGTM" (Looks Good To Me)—the digital equivalent of "I didn't read this but I trust you didn't break production." The cognitive overload is real! Your brain just nopes out after line 47, and honestly, who has time to review someone's entire dissertation on why they needed 12 nested if-statements?

The fearless warrior of code until Git throws that dreaded merge conflict error. Suddenly the bravest developer becomes a helpless child begging an AI to fix their mess. We've all been there—confidently pushing changes at 4:59 PM on Friday, only to have Git remind us we're not as clever as we thought. Nothing humbles you faster than seeing those <<<<<<< HEAD markers turn your beautiful code into abstract art.

OH THE SHEER DEVASTATION! 💀 You've spent the last two hours crafting 200 lines of pure genius—algorithms that would make Dijkstra weep with joy—and then your computer just... DECIDES IT'S HAD ENOUGH OF EXISTENCE! That moment when your finger hovers over Ctrl+S but you thought "I'll save it after this one little change" for the 47th time in a row. Your computer is literally contemplating digital suicide rather than dealing with your chaotic coding habits! The universe's way of teaching you that auto-save features exist for a reason, you magnificent disaster!