Who Could Have Thought

That feeling when your pull request finally gets approved after 47 code reviews, 18 requested changes, and 3 weeks of waiting... You're not just a developer anymore—you're royalty . Sitting on that throne of merged code, looking slightly uncomfortable because deep down you know your hastily added console.log() statements are still in there. The kingdom is yours until QA finds that edge case you totally forgot to test.

THE AUDACITY! Just when you're about to push that LIFE-CHANGING commit to save humanity, GitHub's rainbow unicorn of doom appears! 🦄 There you are, frantically refreshing like it'll magically fix itself, as if the unicorn will gallop away if you click hard enough. And that "contact us if the problem persists" suggestion? PLEASE! As if we're not going to try refreshing 47 more times before even CONSIDERING that option! The unicorn might as well be saying "Have you tried turning it off and on again?" while sipping tea and judging your life choices. Meanwhile, your deadline approaches and your will to live decreases with every rainbow-colored second!

Ah yes, the two types of developers in their natural habitat. One proudly declares "I'm merging it. fuck the tests" with the confidence of someone who's about to create tomorrow's emergency hotfix. Then there's the reply guy claiming "writing testcases for your code is doubting your own coding abilities. it's a sign of weakness." This is the software development equivalent of saying "helmets are for cowards" while riding a motorcycle blindfolded. Future you will be sending past you very strongly worded Slack messages at 2AM when production catches fire.

This meme perfectly captures the hilarious contrast between scientists and developers when it comes to naming things. Scientists are literally crying over chemical nomenclature, insisting that a benzene ring with a methyl group must be called "toluene" and follow strict naming conventions. Meanwhile, developers are just chilling with their GitHub repo called "oobabooga" for a text generation tool, completely unbothered by naming standards. Why spend hours debating proper terminology when you can just slap "oobabooga" on your AI project and call it a day? Naming things might be one of the two hardest problems in computer science, but clearly some devs have found the ultimate solution: embrace the absurd!

Terry, the mythical unicorn of development. Spends two decades crafting his own OS (because apparently existing ones weren't painful enough), yet somehow manages to write commit messages that don't read like encrypted ransom notes. Meanwhile, the rest of us are over here with our "fixed stuff" and "updated things" commits, wondering if we should just give up and become goat farmers.

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.