documentation Memes

From A Multinational Bank Too

From A Multinational Bank Too
Nothing screams "enterprise-grade documentation" quite like receiving your API specification as JSON snippets copy-pasted into Excel cells. Because why use OpenAPI/Swagger specs, Postman collections, or literally any proper API documentation tool when you can just... Excel ? The fact that this came from a multinational bank makes it even more delicious. Somewhere in their tech stack, they're handling billions in transactions with microservices and distributed systems, but when it comes to sharing API docs? Excel spreadsheet it is! The JSON is probably beautifully formatted too—until Excel decides that your timestamps are dates and your IDs need to be in scientific notation. Props to whoever had to parse through those cells trying to figure out which curly brace belongs where. Hope they didn't need to copy-paste that JSON anywhere, because Excel definitely added some invisible characters for flavor.

From A Multinational Bank Too

From A Multinational Bank Too
Nothing screams "enterprise-grade documentation" quite like receiving JSON screenshots pasted into Excel cells. Because why use OpenAPI/Swagger specs, Postman collections, or literally any structured format when you can squint at pixelated text in a spreadsheet? The fact that this is coming from a multinational bank with presumably billions in revenue makes it even more chef's kiss. Someone probably spent hours meticulously screenshotting each endpoint, carefully pasting them into Excel, and thought "yes, this is the professional way." Meanwhile, the developer receiving this masterpiece gets to manually type out every field, guess the data types, and pray they didn't miss anything because zooming into cell B47 isn't helping. The frog's dignified expression perfectly captures the internal screaming while maintaining that corporate professionalism.

Algorithm The Saviour

Algorithm The Saviour
You know you've hit peak laziness when "I used an algorithm" becomes your universal escape hatch. Can't explain your nested loops? Algorithm. Don't remember why you chose that data structure? Algorithm. Someone asks why your function has 47 lines of incomprehensible logic? Just smile and say "it's an algorithm" like you're dropping some CS theory knowledge. It's the technical equivalent of saying "it's magic" but with enough gravitas that people nod and back away slowly. Works especially well in code reviews when you really just brute-forced something at 2 AM and have zero idea how to articulate the chaos you created.

Bash Reference Manual

Bash Reference Manual
Someone asks for the Bash reference manual and gets hit with an absolute unit of a URL pointing to some obscure government PDF buried in the justice.gov domain. Because nothing says "user-friendly documentation" like a 73-character filepath that looks like it was generated by a random number generator in 2009. The cardinal's aggressive response perfectly captures the energy of Linux veterans who've memorized these cryptic paths and will absolutely roast you for not knowing them. Meanwhile, the smaller bird's "whoa." is all of us trying to process that someone actually has this URL memorized and ready to deploy as a weapon. The real joke? That URL probably doesn't even work anymore, but the cardinal doesn't care. It's about sending a message: RTFM, but make it intimidating.

Add More Comments

Add More Comments
COBOL assignments are already punishment enough without the professor's commentary. First they tell you to add comments, so you write "*> move A to B" which is literally just repeating what the code says in slightly different words. Then they hit you with the "explain WHY not WHAT" lecture, so you craft these beautiful explanatory comments about copying values around. The code went from self-documenting to over-documented faster than a mainframe processes a batch job. Nothing says "I understand good practices" quite like explaining why you're moving variables in a language where everything is already painfully verbose.

Well That Was Useful

Well That Was Useful
Oh fantastic, you finally decided to check the documentation after hours of suffering! And what do you find? Instructions so vague they might as well be ancient hieroglyphics. The documentation literally shows you how to put a square peg in a round hole—technically correct but COMPLETELY useless for your actual problem. Thanks for nothing, documentation writers who clearly moonlight as abstract artists! Nothing says "helpful" quite like instructions that make you question your entire existence and career choices.

Documenting For Everyone Else Yeah Thats Definitely Why

Documenting For Everyone Else Yeah Thats Definitely Why
Ah yes, the classic "I'm doing this for the team" excuse when really you're just trying to remember what the hell that function does three hours from now. We all pretend we're being altruistic team players writing detailed comments and documentation, but deep down we know the truth: our memory is about as reliable as JavaScript's type system. You'll write a brilliant algorithm at 2 AM, feel like a genius, and then come back the next morning staring at your own code like it's written in ancient hieroglyphics. That's when you realize past-you was actually looking out for future-you, not the junior dev who might inherit this codebase. The real MVP is the comment that says "don't touch this, I don't know why it works either."

I Still Haven't Figured Out How To Do This

I Still Haven't Figured Out How To Do This
You can reverse-engineer a distributed microservices architecture, debug race conditions in multithreaded applications, and optimize algorithms to O(log n), but deleting a blank page in Word? That's where we draw the line. Microsoft Word's pagination system operates on ancient dark magic that predates modern computing—it's literally easier to rewrite the entire document than figure out why that phantom page exists. The irony of being called "technologically advanced" while frantically mashing backspace and delete like a caveman discovering fire is just *chef's kiss*. Fun fact: Those blank pages are usually caused by paragraph marks, section breaks, or page breaks that Word hides like Easter eggs from hell. But will you remember that next time? Absolutely not.

This Also Applies To Those Who Write The Algorithm In Plain English

This Also Applies To Those Who Write The Algorithm In Plain English
Using an LLM to look up documentation is like using a sword and fork to eat chicken. Sure, it technically works, but you're bringing medieval weaponry to a task that requires... literally just opening a browser tab. The guy's committed to the bit though, full knight armor and everything. Documentation exists. It's indexed. It's searchable. It doesn't hallucinate that a function takes 4 parameters when it only takes 2. But hey, why read the actual docs when you can ask an AI that was trained on Stack Overflow answers from 2019 and might confidently tell you to use a deprecated method? The title nails it too. Same energy as people who write "loop through the array and find the maximum value" as their solution to a coding challenge. Thanks, I also speak English. Show me the code or show me the door.

Justified

Justified
Ah yes, the ancient art of waterboarding someone for suggesting best practices. Your team watches in silent approval as you're stretched on the rack for daring to propose that maybe, just maybe , spending a sprint on documentation and unit tests could prevent the production fires that happen every other Tuesday. The irony? Six months later when the codebase is an undocumented dumpster fire and nobody knows what anything does, they'll be asking "why didn't we write tests?" while you're still recovering from the torture chamber. But sure, let's ship that feature with zero coverage and comments that say "//TODO: fix this later" because technical debt is just a myth invented by people who hate fun, right? At least the medieval executioners had the decency to make it quick. Your team prefers the slow death of watching you maintain their spaghetti code alone.

True Story That Might Have Happened Today

True Story That Might Have Happened Today
Nothing quite captures that special blend of horror and betrayal like discovering your AI assistant has been creatively interpreting your project requirements. You trusted Copilot to autocomplete your life, and instead it decided to play God with your entire config setup. The quotes around "did" are doing some heavy lifting here—because let's be real, it was definitely you who accepted every single suggestion without reading them. But sure, blame the coworker. That's what they're there for, right? The real kicker? You only found out by reading the documentation. Like some kind of responsible developer . Disgusting.

Please Keep Your Documentation Updated I Am Begging

Please Keep Your Documentation Updated I Am Begging
Oh, the sheer AUDACITY of outdated documentation! You waltz into what SHOULD be a simple integration task, armed with confidence and the API docs. "This'll take a day, maybe two," you whisper to yourself like a naive little summer child. But PLOT TWIST: Those docs were last updated when dinosaurs roamed the earth! Endpoints don't exist anymore, authentication methods have completely changed, and half the parameters are deprecated. Now you're spelunking through cryptic error messages, reverse-engineering their API by trial and error, and questioning every life choice that led you to this moment. Three weeks later, you emerge from the portal dimension of despair, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, having aged approximately 47 years. The "straightforward" task has consumed your soul and your sanity. Meanwhile, the third-party API provider is probably sipping margaritas somewhere, blissfully unaware they've created a documentation graveyard that's ruining lives. Pro tip: If the docs say "Last updated: 2019," just run. Run far, far away.