Commit messages Memes

When your coworker casually drops a commit labeled "Small Fixes" that changes 12,566 lines and deletes 10,508 lines. The shock and horror! That's not a small fix—that's reconstructive surgery on the codebase! Future you will be digging through git blame wondering what nuclear explosion happened that day. And good luck with the code review... "LGTM" is about to become "Let God Take Me."

Behold the ULTIMATE time-saving technique that separates the coding peasants from the keyboard royalty! 💅 Why waste precious milliseconds typing "changes" correctly when you can just slam "chnages" into your commit message and save enough time to... I don't know... contemplate your life choices? The sheer AUDACITY of those who meticulously spell-check their commit messages! Meanwhile, the rest of us are living in 3023 with our typo-driven development methodology. Future historians will study this revolutionary approach!

Rewrote the entire codebase but called it "minor changes" in the commit message? Absolute chad move. Nothing says "I fear no code review" like casually pushing 4000 lines of changes directly to main with that description. The person who has to review this PR is probably contemplating a career change right now. It's the programming equivalent of renovating an entire house and telling your spouse you "just moved a few things around."

Ah, the sacred art of commit messages. The sign demands "Commit messages must contain actual information" while the developer mutters "If those kids could read they'd be very upset." Nothing quite captures the essence of developer rebellion like pushing code with messages like "fixed stuff," "it works now," and the ever-popular "some bug fixes." Sure, future-you will have absolutely no idea what changes were made or why, but present-you saved a whole 15 seconds not documenting properly. Brilliant strategy!

OH. MY. GOD. The AUDACITY of this person claiming "four years of Git experience" when their entire workflow is clicking buttons in an IDE! 💀 The tragic comedy unfolds in four acts: clicking the branch button, making a change with the most heartfelt commit message ever ("fix this please! Thank you, I love you :)"), typing "fixed" with the eloquence of Shakespeare, and then just... clicking "Commit." THAT'S IT. THAT'S THEIR ENTIRE "GIT EXPERIENCE." Meanwhile, terminal warriors are over here rebasing interactive branches, cherry-picking commits, force-pushing with lease, and writing commit messages that would make your English professor weep tears of joy. But sure, Jan, you're a "Git expert" because you can click a button. I CANNOT EVEN. 🙄

Suddenly your janky, sleep-deprived code transforms into a sophisticated masterpiece the moment it hits the repository. Left side: disheveled cat representing your actual code—a horrifying amalgamation of Stack Overflow snippets and desperate hacks that somehow passes all tests. Right side: the same cat in a tuxedo representing how you present that same code in Git commits—"Implemented elegant solution utilizing advanced design patterns." The duality of development: what makes it work versus what you claim made it work.

Ah, the sacred unspoken rules of society! Don't ask women their age, don't ask men their salary, and for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT ask a developer what their commit messages actually mean. That cryptic "Fixed stuff" covering 47 file changes? The mysterious "It works now" with no explanation? The passive-aggressive "Finally fixed the stupid bug"? These are personal diary entries of pain, triumph, and existential crisis that shall remain forever unexplained. Inquiring about commit messages is like asking someone to explain their browser history. Some things are better left buried in the git log where they belong.

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 harsh reality of Git commands visualized with brutal accuracy. Landing a plane? That's your git commit - looks smooth but you're still touching ground. Taking off with git push ? Sure, your code's airborne but there's always turbulence ahead in production. And then there's git add - literally passengers climbing stairs to nowhere in the middle of a desert. That's what happens when you stage files without knowing what the hell you're actually including. Seven years as a lead and I still catch juniors blindly adding everything with git add . and wondering why their API keys ended up on GitHub.

The martial arts of version control! Nothing strikes fear into the heart of a dev team like that one colleague who copy-pastes the same cryptic commit message 10,000 times. "Fixed stuff" or the dreaded "minor changes" pushed to production repeatedly is the coding equivalent of a roundhouse kick to your sanity. The true Git master isn't the one with diverse commits—it's the stubborn minimalist who refuses to elaborate what fresh hell they've introduced to the codebase. Next time you see "updates" committed for the 9,999th time, remember: empty your mind of descriptive messages, be formless, shapeless, like null...