Side projects Memes

When your side project starts as "I just need to find one specific video" and ends with you accidentally becoming the chief architect of a distributed NSFW content aggregation platform. The progression from normal person to full clown is chef's kiss—each step sounds more impressive on a resume while getting exponentially harder to explain to your grandma. The beauty here is that the technical skills are genuinely impressive: ETL pipelines, indexing 89,000 communities, deploying a Next.js app with proper infrastructure. But good luck putting "Built scalable search engine for adult content discovery across Reddit's NSFW ecosystem" on your LinkedIn without your professional network having questions. HR departments everywhere just felt a disturbance in the force. Pro tip: Just call it a "content aggregation platform with advanced filtering capabilities" and pray nobody asks for a demo during the interview.

The classic startup death spiral visualized in three painful steps. You've got 250 domain names because "what if we need them someday?" Then somehow you managed to ship 17 actual apps—impressive engineering, terrible focus. But the grand finale? Zero paying users. That beautiful moment when you realize your brilliant technical solutions are solving problems nobody wants to pay for. It's the perfect illustration of the engineer's fallacy: thinking that elegant code automatically translates to business success. Spoiler alert: users don't care about your perfect microservice architecture—they care about their problems being solved. And apparently, none of your 17 apps across 250 domains managed that particular trick.

Domain hoarders are the tech world's secret addicts. Hiding in the attic with 47 unused domains they're "definitely going to build something on someday." Meanwhile, they're dropping $500 annually on renewals for gems like blockchain-cat-nft-revolution.com that seemed brilliant at 2 AM after three energy drinks. The family downstairs has no idea why money keeps disappearing, while upstairs you're refreshing domain auctions like it's the stock market. "This one's an investment," you whisper to yourself, as you register your 12th variation of a pun nobody else understands.