I Think They Must Hire Him

The classic developer mantra: "Nobody is going to die if you write bad software" paired with "Faking it till you make it should probably be fine" and a dead platypus in the middle. The perfect encapsulation of that voice in your head justifying why it's OK to push untested code to production on a Friday afternoon. Just remember, somewhere an aviation software engineer is reading this and having a panic attack.

THE ULTIMATE REVENGE PLOT! Behold the glorious moment of sweet, sweet vengeance as our unpaid intern commits the cardinal sin of tech - exposing the company's API key to the ENTIRE INTERNET! 💅 That's right, honey! After months of free labor and "experience," they're leaving a parting gift that'll have the senior devs SCREAMING at 2AM when the AWS bill hits astronomical levels. The digital equivalent of burning the building down on your way out. Petty? Perhaps. Justified? ABSOLUTELY. Now some random hacker can enjoy all those premium services the company was too cheap to pay their interns for!

So Microsoft wants to eliminate C and C++ by 2030 using AI to rewrite their entire codebase. Because nothing says "brilliant strategy" like letting algorithms rewrite millions of lines of battle-tested code that's been running critical systems for decades. The hubris is *chef's kiss*. They're so busy flexing their AI muscles that they forgot to ask the most important question: just because you CAN automate the rewriting of foundational infrastructure doesn't mean you SHOULD. What could possibly go wrong with AI touching code that powers Windows, Office, and Azure? It's not like memory safety bugs are subtle or anything. The Jeff Goldblum meme from Jurassic Park is the perfect response here. They were so preoccupied with whether they could use AI to eliminate C/C++, they didn't stop to think if they should. Because replacing decades of institutional knowledge and battle-hardened code with AI-generated Rust (presumably) is definitely going to go smoothly. No edge cases, no undefined behavior gotchas, just pure algorithmic magic. Sure.

That moment when your access to the company's GitHub repo gets revoked before HR even tells you you're fired. Nothing says "your services are no longer required" quite like git pushing you out of the organization! The digital equivalent of finding your desk contents in a cardboard box. Bonus anxiety: frantically checking if you committed that side project code before losing access forever.

Oh. My. GOD. The AUDACITY of putting a "DO NOT CONNECT TO LAN/INTERNET" sticker with a skull and crossbones on a laptop that LITERALLY HAS AN ETHERNET PORT RIGHT BELOW IT! It's like putting a "do not eat" sign on a cake and then serving it with a fork! This is the digital equivalent of telling someone they can't swim while pushing them into a pool. Some poor IT admin is having heart palpitations somewhere knowing that temptation is just ONE cable away from complete and utter catastrophe! That laptop must be harboring government secrets or the world's most embarrassing browser history! 💀

When your cat becomes the lead security auditor for your .env file. Nothing says "production-ready" quite like having your database credentials, API keys, and OpenAI tokens scrutinized by a creature that knocks things off tables for fun. The cat's judging every line: "POSTGRES_PASSWORD=postgres? Really? You're basically begging to get hacked. Also, why are you storing OpenAI keys for file generation, translation, AND hint generation? Pick a lane, human." Meanwhile, there's a tiny crochet developer buddy on the desk providing moral support, because apparently even inanimate objects have better code review skills than most junior devs. The real question is: did the cat approve this environment configuration, or is it about to paw-close vim without saving?