Join devRant
Do all the things like
++ or -- rants, post your own rants, comment on others' rants and build your customized dev avatar
Sign Up
Pipeless API
From the creators of devRant, Pipeless lets you power real-time personalized recommendations and activity feeds using a simple API
Learn More
Search - "night terror"
-
Why do people have to lie? I am seriously getting tired of it.
Context: While I was on vacation the company hired some guy we’ll call Bob.
Bob is a senior with 10+ years of experience. 5 of those years in React (supposedly).
I got back from vacation and was told I’d be working on a project with Bob.
I’ve worked in teams before so I thought no problem.
Now I am aware that different people have different styles, so that’s why we agreed on a lint config with some fancy git hooks.
I was excited at first because the project actually seems nice, but my excitement soon turned into terror.
First of all, Bob doesn’t seem to understand Git…fair enough, I’ll give him a quick guide…
Mf calls me at 11pm on a Friday because he can’t push because the tests are failling.
Now tests. Bob doesn’t write those. Great.
We had created a few components to use throughout the project.
Bob seems to consistently forget what components are and why you write them and just imports the defaults from the UI library we’re using.
Bob also has a kink for hardcoding values for some reason.
I talked to Bob multiple times about this and he just tells me he’ll change it but in the end the PR stays open for 5 days, before it’s actually me who goes in and fixes it. Oh and yeah this shit keeps happening over and over again.
Now I know some of us devs hate meetings but for the love of God Bob just show up. You don’t even have to speak. Or at least answer a message that corresponds to the working hours and not in the middle of the night.
I am getting tired of this behavior and am seriously holding back from reporting this to the management. It’s been a month and I am seriously worried about the project. I have my own stuff to do but it takes time for me to clean up his absolute mess that doesn’t even pass the CI.
Call me an asshole I don’t care. It’s been a month and I’m legit worried about the future of the project.20 -
I worked for a company that was in entertainment news. Specifically rock music.
On the terrible night of the Battaclan (spelling?) terror attacks in Paris. Few years ago our site was one of the first to run the story (the main attack happened at a rock concert). Anyway the tech debt that we’d been complaining about for months reared it’s head. The site got so much traffic that it was just fucked all night. Literally couldn’t get the databases back up for about 7 straight hours. -
Night time depression+anxiety combo is super fun!
Specially that part that tells you "check your emails" and then you find like 69 more reasons to worry.
I should just call it quits and become a middle manager. Or is it too late? 😬8 -
Shit bathed and stack smashing ass loads of fuck.
I wrote a virtual machine, and just to fuck myself harder, I make the decision of applying some fancy dumbass theories of mine. This translates to a piece of shit modular design that works exactly as intended, but constantly gives me vietnam flashbacks to the horrifying, multiple concurrent instances of my younger mind being incessantly turbo-raped by the dozen object-obsessed pedophiles that I initially studied under.
Now, were they *actual* pedophiles? No, of course not. But I have to make fun of the acronym somehow and that's what came to mind, leaking horse dung all over the walls, floor, curtains and carpets.
Anyway, I feel so smart after this traumatic experience I just have to keep doing it to relive the terror once again. Find me in the corner, laying down in the fetal position, sobbing until the tears build up and drown me in this well of despair, or rather this finely shit painted portrait of a toilet in a lonely and stinking unisex public bathroom stall.
But let me squeeze these fucking tits a little bit harder, because that's my actual day job. That's right. I get PAID for slapping around mammary glands, it's not much but it's an honest living.
So where was I? Ah, yes, absolute degeneration. I'm truly the Max Wright of programming, mostly for smoking crack and having unprotected sex with homeless people, but also for keeping alien life forms in my basement that go out at night to hunt for sweet feline delight.
But as I keep going, I decide I want a language for the machine so I don't have to punch bits by hand all fucking day like an idiot, so alright let's make a small assembler for this shit... oh, right, except it's not small, because gently suckle the bile out the lips of my fucking butthole.
I may redefine a load of shit two months down the line, so I have to make everything perfectly encapsulated and easily fucked with -- which in my licking vomit off the floor of a porn theater travesty of a case means I'm generating half the code and scrambling as hard as I can to glue everything together.
Does it work? Of course it works, I'm Max Wright bitch. I can redefine the ISA all I want, anytime I want without breaking anything because of my pristine crackhead encapsulation. And to credit the scrambled eggs I have for fucking brains, it's not even *that* complex.
The problem is I keep forgetting shit, not how it works, just that it's there. So I forget that I have a virtual machine, and I forget that I have an assembler, and so I spend an entire day trying to figure out how the fuck I'm going to handle a loop inside an unrelated interpreter.
By the time I manage to remind the drooling undead jackass that is this husk that my irredeemably demonic self inhabits, that we can easily solve this by using the tools we've already built, it's so late and we're so tired there's not much we can do. All this time, WASTED.
Which circles back to crack. Are you tired of blowing your babysitter for cash? Have you considered suicide by a thousand used trojan condoms? Is your roommate possesed by the forces of Avernum, and now seeking all-destructive vengeance against your rectum?
Try no other than Soul Excision, the treatment that will neuter your being and curse it to the TRUEST form of eternal damnation! Through Soul Excision, you will be CUT OFF from the very essence of the universe, and turned into an astral prostitute that offers their EVERY orifice to the BUTTLOADS of maggots that debour their mind and body, all for the pleasure of some rich and powerful wankers that *deeply* enjoy watching questionable erotic tapes from nightmarish outer dimensions!
Use my promo code SLUTSKANK for 20% OFF in your very LAST purchase on this earth! And once you surrender your BODILY holes to cosmic oblivion, remember: when it comes to your ASS, we're ALWAYS open for business!
Thanks to Soul Excision for sponsoring this DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD$$$$$"2402"$$?"="$0"?¿"=¿?40'0"$="¿¿=$¿"?=4¿?"$="?¿$="¿?$0¿?"=$¡'0$"¿?$=::::::
:~%4