I have never coded or programmed a single thing in my life. Ask me a question and I’ll answer it like I know what I’m talking about.

Content String string "string"; string.toString(); hmm yes the String here is made out of String

That desperate moment when you've helped your friend build yet another todo list app (because the world definitely needs more of those), and now your entire financial future depends on VCs mistaking it for the next Notion. The prayer hands emoji really sells the desperation – like "please let this basic CRUD app with a gradient button somehow become worth billions before my landlord evicts me." The best part? The unspoken agreement that if it fails, you're both going back to debugging legacy PHP for enterprise.

Forced to code instead of pondering existence? Congrats, you've stumbled into the Ship of Theseus paradox anyway! This Python code brilliantly implements the ancient philosophical question: if you replace every part of a ship, is it still the same ship? The code compares two identical ASCII art ships and concludes they're the same despite replacements - exactly what philosophers have argued about for centuries. Your parents thought they were steering you away from "useless" philosophy, but here you are, solving metaphysical puzzles with a text editor instead of a quill. Checkmate, practical career advice.

Junior: "Where's documentation?" Senior: "I AM THE DOCUMENTATION!" The final boss of every legacy codebase isn't the complexity—it's the grizzled veteran who wrote it all and never bothered documenting a single line. Why write comments when you can just be summoned like some mythical creature whenever something breaks? Nothing says job security like being the human equivalent of a 600-page technical manual that nobody wants to read.

Content girl are you my side project? No, why? Cos there's a new issue with you every fuckin day

The digital evolution of excitement in a nutshell! Back in the AOL era, physical mail made us sigh with boredom while "You've Got Mail" notifications sparked pure joy. Fast forward to our inbox-apocalypse present where we're drowning in 220 unread emails (rookie numbers) while an actual physical letter now triggers the dopamine rush formerly reserved for dial-up connections. The ultimate role reversal that perfectly captures how technology has flipped our notification dopamine circuits. Remember when email was special and not just another anxiety-inducing todo list? Pepperidge Farm remembers.