Code quality Memes

OH. MY. GOD. The AUDACITY of spending your ENTIRE precious day writing documentation instead of churning out shiny new features! 💅 You're literally out here in the coding fields, tilling the soil of software quality with READMEs that no one will read, tests that future developers will thank you for (but never tell you), docstrings that save lives, and type hints that prevent catastrophes. Meanwhile, your product manager is DYING for those new features! But honey, when your colleagues aren't crying over undocumented code at 3AM, they'll know. It ain't glamorous, it ain't sexy, but it's the backbone of civilization as we know it. *dramatically tosses documentation over shoulder*

The code comment redundancy epidemic has reached street signs! Just like that sign helpfully pointing out "THIS IS A STOP SIGN" under an actual stop sign, junior devs have a special talent for writing comments that state the painfully obvious: // This function adds two numbers function add(a, b) {   return a + b; // Returns the sum } Senior devs scrolling through that code base are experiencing physical pain right now. Remember folks: good comments explain why , not what . Unless you're documenting an API, in which case... carry on with your obvious statements!

Ah yes, the "vibe coder" - stretching fingers, cracking neck, warming up those legs... all for the impossible task of "Make no mistakes." That's like telling a JavaScript developer their code will work on the first try. The physical preparation for absolute perfection is the most relatable programmer delusion ever. We all do this ridiculous pre-coding ritual like we're about to perform brain surgery, only to spend the next 4 hours debugging a missing semicolon.

Ah, the archaeological expedition to decipher your own code from last month. That moment when you need Indiana Jones' skills just to understand what the hell you were thinking. "Why did I use a ternary operator inside a map function nested in a reduce?" The hieroglyphics might actually be easier to translate than whatever caffeine-fueled logic possessed you during that 3 AM coding session. The worst part? You probably left zero comments because "it was obvious" at the time. Congratulations, you've become your own worst legacy code maintainer.