Junior developers Memes

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!

The interrogation room just got a new tech twist. That moment when your tech lead discovers you've been hiding junior developers who write aesthetic code that doesn't actually work. Sure, the indentation is perfect and the variable names are poetic, but the application crashes if a user breathes too hard. Your defense? "But look how clean the console logs are!"

The ABSOLUTE AUDACITY of junior devs saying they "vibe coded" something! 💀 Senior developers' souls literally leave their bodies when they hear this phrase. That look of pure, undiluted judgment isn't just disappointment—it's the face of someone who spent 15 years perfecting their craft only to hear some kid claim they wrote production code while half-watching Netflix and "feeling the flow." Meanwhile, the senior dev is mentally reviewing the 47 security vulnerabilities and technical debt nightmare they'll have to fix next sprint. The contempt is so thick you could compile it into a binary!

The sacred art of variable naming, where senior devs lecture juniors while secretly having 47 variables named 'x', 'i', and 'temp' in their own codebase. Nothing says "I've given up on humanity" quite like discovering a class named 'Mgr' with a method called 'proc' that takes parameters 'a', 'b', and 'c'. The best part? The person lecturing you about clean code is the same one who wrote that unreadable mess six months ago and has conveniently forgotten about it. The true rite of passage in programming isn't your first bug fix—it's the first time you open a file with variables like 'thingDoer' and 'data2' and seriously consider a career change.

Junior devs gasping for air while being forced to learn Visual Basic 6.0 is the tech equivalent of waterboarding. Nothing prepares you for the existential crisis of maintaining code from the Clinton administration. The senior dev dangling that mudskipper of knowledge is just thinking "If I had to suffer through this nightmare in 2003, so do you." Legacy code: where dreams and modern programming practices go to die.

Ah, the classic corporate punishment for competence! You thought you'd be praised for transforming that junior's messy greenfield project into a beautiful, efficient masterpiece? Rookie mistake. Now you've proven you can handle the worst code in existence, so naturally, leadership is sentencing you to 5 years of maintaining ancient legacy systems where semicolons from 2003 are considered historical artifacts and commenting code is viewed as "unnecessary documentation." Your reward for excellence is basically being sent to digital archaeology duty. Congrats on the promotion!