After deploying to production before long weekend

OMG, it's the ULTIMATE developer battle cry! 💀 "Deploy First, Pray Later" - because who needs testing when you have BLIND FAITH and ENERGY DRINKS?! The cute little praying bunny is all of us at 4:57 PM on Friday when someone says "let's push to production!" Meanwhile, that subtitle "god abandoned this pipeline long ago" is the tragic reality check your CI/CD process desperately needed. Your deployment strategy shouldn't require divine intervention, but here we are... FRANTICALLY LIGHTING CANDLES while production burns!

That moment when a junior dev proudly announces they've "cleaned up" the codebase by removing "unused" functions, and suddenly the entire production environment collapses like a tree cut from its support. The code wasn't commented because the senior who wrote it was too busy putting out other fires to document why that "useless" function was actually holding up the entire architecture. Five minutes before the demo, everyone's frantically digging through Git history trying to figure out what the hell that Pink Panther function actually did.

Ah yes, the classic programmer evolution: from "this game is broken!" to "I understand why this game is broken and would probably make the same mistakes myself." Once you've spent hours debugging your own code only to find a missing semicolon, you develop this weird Stockholm syndrome with bugs. You don't complain anymore because you're too busy having flashbacks to your own coding nightmares. It's not forgiveness—it's trauma-based empathy.

Content Unfortunately, Microsoft has added a clever new "feature" to Internet Explorer. If the text of an error's message is "too small", specifically less than 512 bytes, Internet Explorer returns - its own error message. You can turn that off, but it's pretty tricky to find switch called "smart error messages". That means, of course, - chat short error messages are censored by deraucc. IIS always returns error messages that are long enough to make Internet Explorer happy. The workaround is pretty simple: pad the error message with a big comment like this to push it over the five hundred and twelve bytes minimum. Of course, that's exactly what you're reading right now. body html

Content Hacker Scripts Based on a true story: xxx: OK, so, our build engineer has left for another company. The dude was literally living inside the terminal. You know, that type of a guy who loves Vim, creates diagrams in Dot and writes wiki-posts in Markdown... If something - anything requires more than 90 seconds of his time, he writes a script to automate that. xxx: So we're sitting here, looking through his, uhm, "legacy" xxx: You're gonna love this xxx: smack-my-bitch-up.sh - sends a text message "late at work" to his wife (apparently). Automatically picks reasons from an array of strings, randomly. Runs inside a cron-job. The job fires if there are active SSH-sessions on the server after 9pm with his login. xxX: kumar-asshole.sh - scans the inbox for emails from "Kumar" (a DBA at our clients). Looks for keywords like "help", "trouble", "sorry etc. If keywords are found - the script SSHes into the clients server and rolls back the staging database to the latest backup. Then sends a reply "no worries mate, be careful next time". xxX: hangover.sh - another cron-job that is set to specific dates. Sends automated emails like "not feeling wellgonna work from home" etc. Adds a random "reason" from another predefined array of strings. Fires if there are no interactive sessions on the server at 8:45am. xxX: (and the oscar goes to) fucking-coffee.sh - this one waits exactly 17 seconds (!), then opens a telnet session to our coffee-machine (we had no frikin idea the coffee machine is on the network, runs linux and has a TCP socket up and running) and sends something like sys brew. Turns out this thing starts brewing a mid-sized half-caf latte and waits another 24 (!) seconds before pouring it into a cup. The timing is exactly how long it takes to walk to the machine from the dudes desk. xxx: holy sht I'm keeping those

Grammar lessons were never this practical in school. This chart perfectly captures the inevitable relationship between developers and production environments - a timeline of chaos told through English tenses. The brutal honesty here is what gets me. "I break prod every Friday" isn't a possibility - it's a simple present fact of life. And that perfect continuous future tense? Chef's kiss. Nothing quite captures the existential dread of knowing you'll have been breaking prod for two hours by the time your boss discovers it. The cat's worried expressions gradually intensifying across the grid is the silent scream of every developer who's ever frantically searched Stack Overflow while production burns.