I Usually Prefer Front Door On First Date

Ah yes, the classic "I store all my passwords in a place even Google can't find them." Because nothing says "responsible developer" like casually browsing the dark web to retrieve that password you definitely didn't write down on a Post-it note that fell behind your desk. Next level security strategy: make your password so sketchy that you need Tor just to remember it!

The tech industry's relationship with the word "open" is like that ex who said they wanted an "open relationship" but actually meant "I want to see other people while you stay committed." On the left, we've got "Open" VPNs with fine print that would make a lawyer blush: "free" (after you pay), "unlimited" (for exactly two people), and source code you can view from such a distance you'll need the James Webb telescope. And then there's "Open" AI on the right—about as open as Fort Knox during a security drill. "Open research" (coming never), "open models" (just trust us, bro), and an "open culture" where sharing is strictly forbidden. After 15 years in tech, I've learned that "open" is corporate-speak for "we'll keep it open until we've captured enough market share to slam the door shut." Classic bait-and-switch, now with 100% more paywalls!

That moment of pure existential dread when muscle memory betrays you and suddenly your super-secret password " iLoveCats2007! " is on full display in the username field. Your brain frantically calculates how quickly you can hit backspace while simultaneously wondering if the person next to you has photographic memory. Nothing quite says "security expert" like broadcasting your credentials to the entire coffee shop. Pro tip: if this happens, just loudly announce "That's not my actual password, it's just what I type to confuse hackers" and watch as absolutely nobody believes you.

Ah, the classic terminal persecution complex! Nothing says "I'm just trying to check my disk space" like opening a black screen with colorful text in public and suddenly becoming the neighborhood cyber-terrorist. The moment you fire up that bash prompt, everyone within eyesight transforms into a medieval mob ready to burn the witch. You could literally be typing ls -la to check your files, but Karen from accounting is already dialing the FBI because she's convinced you're hacking the Pentagon. Hollywood has a lot to answer for. Twenty years of hackers portrayed as hoodie-wearing villains typing at lightning speed on green-on-black screens has turned us all into suspects. Meanwhile, the real cybercriminals are probably using slick GUIs with beautiful dashboards.

The eternal irony of "antivirus" software that behaves suspiciously like the very thing it's supposed to protect you from. McAfee and Norton have evolved from useful security tools into resource-hogging subscription services that bombard you with popup notifications while slowing your system to a crawl. The "Change My Mind" meme format perfectly captures the hill many developers and IT professionals are willing to die on. And honestly, who hasn't experienced that moment when your CPU usage spikes to 99% because Norton decided NOW was the perfect time for a "quick scan"? The real malware was inside your computer all along—you just paid for it voluntarily.

The sweet irony of working in IT - spending your days blocking everyone's fun while secretly having the keys to the kingdom. That moment when you realize your company's firewall is cockblocking your Mario Kart session, but then remember YOU control the firewall. Suddenly those network administration certifications finally pay off! Nothing like using your godlike network privileges to ensure Blue Shell justice can be served, even on corporate Wi-Fi. The circle of tech life: create problems, sell solutions... to yourself.