The Last .Gitignore You Will Ever Need

Watching someone print out code for review is like witnessing a crime against modern development practices. In 2023? SERIOUSLY? That's 30+ pages of perfectly good trees sacrificed to the debugging gods when we have perfectly good monitors, version control, and code review tools. The confused Tom face perfectly captures that moment of "Did I just time travel back to 1995?" Nothing says "I don't trust Git" like killing forests to manually track changes with a red pen. Bonus horror: imagine them printing JavaScript with all those nested callbacks and dependencies!

The CS freshman starter pack is brutally accurate! They write "Hello World" once and suddenly have 4 programming languages on their LinkedIn. Their entire development environment consists of VS Code and GitKraken because the terminal is "scary." Their idea of deployment? Submitting assignments through Canvas. They'll spend hours hunting for that missing semicolon while sharing Boromir memes, and their entire personality revolves around the Minecraft-inspired "noob vs pro" dichotomy. The gatekeeping begins before they've even built anything substantial!

The ultimate power move in software development: merging code directly to production on your last day. Nothing says "peace out" like bypassing all those pesky tests and code reviews when the consequences are officially Someone Else's Problem™. It's the digital equivalent of setting a dumpster fire and walking away in slow motion while putting on sunglasses. The best part? That serene smile knowing you'll be unreachable when the Slack notifications start exploding tomorrow.

GitHub Copilot silently judging your spaghetti code while simultaneously ingesting it for "training purposes." The awkward bat face is basically Copilot's internal reaction when it sees your proprietary algorithms and realizes they're worth exactly $0.00 on the black market. Turns out your paranoia about AI stealing company secrets was justified, but for all the wrong reasons.

Ah, the ancient hieroglyphics of code written before the holiday break. You stare at it like an archaeologist trying to decipher a dead language. "Who wrote this?" you wonder, before checking git blame and realizing it was you... three weeks ago. The coffee isn't strong enough for this level of amnesia. Your brain has completely purged all context about what the hell you were thinking when you wrote that nested ternary operator. Just approve it and type "LGTM" (Looks Good To Me), because honestly, who even remembers how this codebase works anymore?

When your mom accidentally becomes the harshest code reviewer in existence! Non-technical parents have this supernatural ability to cut through our complex developer egos with brutal simplicity. "Random English words in fancy colors" is basically what our syntax highlighting looks like to outsiders, and the alignment complaint? Pure gold. That's literally what senior devs nitpick about during code reviews! Mom's innate attention to detail would make her the terror of every GitHub pull request. She'd reject your meticulously crafted 3-hour algorithm because your variable names aren't descriptive enough.