documentation Memes

Stop Naming Services After Marvel Characters

Stop Naming Services After Marvel Characters
Finally! Freedom to name your microservice whatever your heart desires! No more boring "user-authentication-service" or "payment-processor-api"—nope, we're going FULL CREATIVE MODE. And what better way to exercise this newfound liberty than naming it after a disabled piglet with a wheelchair? Because nothing screams "professional enterprise architecture" quite like explaining to your CTO that the authentication service is called Chris P. Bacon. The beauty here is the sheer commitment to the bit. Your manager gives you carte blanche on naming conventions, thinking you'll choose something sensible and descriptive. Instead, you've immortalized a piglet from Clermont, Florida in your company's infrastructure. Now every standup meeting includes the phrase "Chris P. Bacon is down" and nobody can keep a straight face. The on-call rotation just got 1000% more entertaining. Bonus points: when new developers join and have to read documentation that casually references Chris P. Bacon handling critical business logic. They'll spend their first week wondering if they joined a tech company or a petting zoo.

Always Write Documentation Before Quitting

Always Write Documentation Before Quitting
When your colleague quits without leaving any docs and you're stuck maintaining their cursed codebase, you find yourself staring at blank pages with notes like "This page was left blank because the previous engineer quit before writing documentation." But then you flip to the next page and discover they somehow had time to write a full academic paper on "Image Transfer Protocol Delivery Methods for Sending Pocket Rocket Pictures to Tinder Matches." Complete with an abstract, keywords, and what appears to be legitimate protocol analysis (UDP, TCP, HTTP, SSL) for... optimizing dick pic delivery. The priorities here are chef's kiss . Can't document the actual production system that generates revenue, but can absolutely produce a peer-reviewed paper for EdgartsPocketRocket.com. The dedication to the wrong things is honestly impressive. Pro tip: If you're gonna rage quit, at least leave a README. Your replacement doesn't deserve this chaos.

Dave Ops Engineer

Dave Ops Engineer
You know you're in trouble when the entire company's infrastructure is basically a Jenga tower held together by one senior dev who knows where all the bodies are buried. Dave's the guy who wrote that critical bash script in 2014 that nobody dares to touch, maintains the deployment pipeline in his head, and is the only person who remembers the prod server password. He's on vacation? Good luck. He quits? Company goes down faster than a poorly configured load balancer. The best part? Management keeps saying they'll "document everything" and "reduce the bus factor," but here we are, three years later, still praying Dave doesn't get hit by that metaphorical bus. Or worse, accept that LinkedIn recruiter's message.

Shots Fired

Shots Fired
Product managers and UX designers really thought they did something by adding that tutorial button, huh? Meanwhile, 99% of users are smashing "Yeah, Skip!" faster than they can say "I'll figure it out myself" and then immediately flooding Slack with "how do I..." questions. The real kicker? Your team spent three sprints building that gorgeous interactive tutorial with tooltips, animations, and progress tracking. Nobody watches it. Ever. But somehow it's the devs' fault when users can't find the export button that's been in the same spot for two years. We've all been on both sides of this. Skip the tutorial, break something, then complain the documentation sucks. It's the circle of tech life.

Welcome To The Team

Welcome To The Team
Your first day onboarding be like: "Here's a whiteboard full of 47,000 interconnected boxes that somehow represent our 'simple' microservices architecture. Don't worry, it gets worse!" The absolute AUDACITY of calling that nightmare flowchart an "overview" and then threatening to go into MORE detail is peak corporate sadism. That poor new hire is about to discover that the "little more detail" involves twelve legacy systems held together by duct tape, prayers, and a Perl script from 2003 that nobody dares to touch because the guy who wrote it retired to Bali.

No Documentation

No Documentation
You know that feeling when you push 5,000 lines of undocumented spaghetti code to production on Friday afternoon, then drive away into the sunset with zero guilt? That's the energy here. No README, no comments, variable names like "x2" and "temp_final_FINAL_v3", and a codebase architecture only decipherable by archaeological carbon dating. The next developer who touches this will need therapy and a ouija board. But hey, not your problem anymore. You're already three exits down the highway, phone on silent, living your best life.

Who Wrote This Shit?

Who Wrote This Shit?
Coming back to code you wrote just two weeks ago and finding it completely incomprehensible is basically a rite of passage. The guy staring at Egyptian hieroglyphics on his screen? That's you trying to decode your own variable names like temp2_final_ACTUAL and wondering what possessed you to write a 47-line nested ternary operator. The real kicker is that two weeks ago, you were absolutely convinced your logic was crystal clear and didn't need comments because "the code documents itself." Spoiler alert: it doesn't. Future you is now sitting there like an archaeologist trying to understand an ancient civilization's thought process, except the ancient civilization is literally just past you being lazy about documentation. Pro tip: if you can't understand your own code after two weeks, imagine what your teammates will think. Comments aren't just for other people—they're love letters to your future self who has completely forgotten why that hacky workaround was "absolutely necessary."

Read The Forking Manual

Read The Forking Manual
You spend weeks writing documentation. Beautiful, comprehensive docs with examples, edge cases, troubleshooting sections—the whole nine yards. You even add diagrams because you're fancy like that. Then someone opens a ticket asking the exact question answered in the first paragraph of the README. The sad truth? Documentation is like that gym membership everyone has but nobody uses. Developers would rather spend 3 hours debugging, ask on Slack 47 times, and sacrifice a rubber duck to the coding gods than spend 5 minutes reading the docs. It's not that the bridge isn't there—it's that everyone's too busy trying to swim across the river. Pro tip: If you want people to read your docs, hide the solution in a Stack Overflow answer. That they'll find in 0.3 seconds.

Animals Are Essential To Learn Topics

Animals Are Essential To Learn Topics
Technical documentation writers discovered decades ago that slapping cute animals on diagrams makes complex systems 47% less soul-crushing to learn. The Apache Web Server documentation figured this out early—why show boring boxes when you can have a literal dog delivering responses? Meanwhile, other docs are out here with flowcharts that look like they were designed by someone who thinks "visual appeal" means using a slightly different shade of beige. The O'Reilly publishing empire basically built their brand on this principle. Nothing says "I understand TCP/IP networking" quite like a book with a random camel on the cover. The animals don't even need to be thematically relevant—just throw a mongoose on there and suddenly people are willing to read 800 pages about database optimization. It's the tech equivalent of putting googly eyes on vegetables to make kids eat them, except we're all allegedly adults with CS degrees.

Which One Are You

Which One Are You
Three generations, same circus. New devs think ChatGPT is revolutionary. Old school devs know StackOverflow is the real MVP. Ancient devs? They actually read the documentation—which honestly makes them the most unhinged of the bunch. We've gone from "RTFM" to "copy from SO" to "ask the robot overlord," but the core skill remains unchanged: ctrl+c, ctrl+v, pray it works. The source changes, the desperation doesn't. Fun fact: developers who claim they read documentation are either lying or writing it themselves. There is no third option.

Blaming Bugs On Quantum Physics

Blaming Bugs On Quantum Physics
DARLING, THIS IS the ULTIMATE get-out-of-jail-free card for terrible code! 💅 When your janky JavaScript abomination inevitably collapses like a soufflé in an earthquake, just dramatically wave your hands and declare "It's not a bug, it's a QUANTUM SUPERPOSITION!" Because apparently in some parallel universe, that spaghetti code actually works flawlessly. The audacity of blaming Schrödinger's cat when you forgot a semicolon is just *chef's kiss* the perfect representation of developer accountability. The universe doesn't have plans for your code, honey - it has RESTRAINING ORDERS against it! 💫

What Even Is This Timeline?!

What Even Is This Timeline?!
In a parallel universe where documentation is actually good, we have the mythical CLAUDE.md update. Developers everywhere are experiencing shock and awe at seeing complete endpoint specifications, clear authentication requirements, and—wait for it— documented error handling . It's like spotting a unicorn in your backyard or finding a comment that actually explains why the code works instead of what it does. Next you'll tell me the client agreed to the original project scope without changes!