There's a narrow line between feeling stupid and feeling victorious when I fix a bug.

Hopefully, you already know that the company controlled by the alledged reptiloid subhuman and olimpic testicle juggler formerly known as Mister Zuck My Tits is not to be trusted.

But as is always the case in this bitch, I've been forced into cowjizz flooded swamps' worth of stinking shit platforms for the sake of avoiding isolation.

And so, I've just found yet another way in which Facebook **THUNDERSTRIKE** ... the company, not the geriatric ward, is one of the CROWN ACHIEVEMENTS of human civilization.

Let me tell you something: some people are fucking broke. Hell, some people sleep on the streets, live on scraps, and willingly engage in acts of public defecation when provoked. But I'm not even talking about them no, just plain *broke*.

And so imagine being that guy who doesn't really use his phone much, except maybe for sharing cat pictures with mom because that's what being an absolute chad is all about. You don't get a new phone, because money is a __little__ bit tight. But THEN...

The dreaded CAPITAL strikes, and requests of you to bend and fall onto your knees so as to provide intense, intimate and manual -- as well as oral -- PLEASURE to the [NOT SO] METAPHORICAL PENIS of the """SYSTEM""".

Oh, what an abominable, drooooooling revenant that lies before you!

"Gimme your ass... " he says, menacingly, as you wail about in a futile attempt to guard and preserve the very last vestiges of your own anal virginity.

And so you fight, and kick him in the NADS with everything you have, down to the final shreds of vigor. Victory! Or so you thought...

"You must... " he mutters, mortally wounded "update WhatsApp... "

"Still you breathe?!" you exclaim, suddenly transformed into a heroic, sexy moustachoed arquebusier "After I'm done ~OILING~ my VICTORIOUS CHEST, I *shall* bestow DEATH uppon you!".

But as you rip open your shirt to apply sensual oiling to your marvellous frontal assets, your nemesis reveals it's portentous Portugal: "this new version of Android... " he gasps as he perishes "is incompatible with your device... "

"Ughh! Sacrebleu!" you shriek out in pain, realizing that you are now unable to ACCESS THE FUCKING DATA THAT IS IN YOUR OWN FUCKING HARDWARE BECAUSE OF A STUPID FORCED BINARY INCOMPATIBILITY.

That's right. Now even if I *do* get a new phone, I can't do shit about losing all of the family memes. And contacts and all of that shit, but the stickers are more important. A minor inconvenience, yes, and it didn't need all of this preamble but I was doing the dramatic fight scene bit inside my head as I was writing and I got into it.

Because the only documented way to transfer all of that data is to OPEN THE APPLICATION and scan some code, but everytime I go to do that, IT TELLS ME I NEED TO UPDATE. And every time I GO TO UPDATE, it says that MY PHONE is TOO FUCKING OLD!! AAAAAAAGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG!!!!

And you too, might be a dashing french man from centuries past, with both balls and tits down to your fucking knees, folding your arms in a position that exhumes smugness in a disgustingly irreverent and self-aggrandizing way, looking at me as a mere plebeian who cannot wrap his head around the mystical art of interacting with Google's black deuce box.

And you would be somewhat right in your judgement! But just having to fiddle about with these fucking pocket Elmo screens is such a traumatic experience for me that I'd rather lose my stickers.

[ADBREAK] Are you a debonair victorian undercover butt pirate, taking unparalleled care of your Falstaffian, highfalutin poils pubiens? Need your "sword" sharpened, as you browse through the pages of this magnanimous lexicon? Would you rather allocate final death to your coworkers than learn one more synonym for sonorous, supercilious and pontifical?

We all know that ALL you need to help keep that honor intact is slaying your enemies in high-stakes combat. But how to satisfy less gallant needs, when male prostitution is outlawed in more than sixteen duchies?

Look no further than BloodCurse, the ancient hex that will haunt your family for countless generations! With BloodCurse, you may crawl the earth as a mindless, shameless, piece of shit cockswallowing JUGGERNAUT that craves nothing BUT the consumption of scabbed human ass!

BloodCurse is easily contracted through consumption of the GENITAL fluids of highly-lecherous succubi, conjured through [EXTREMELY CENSORED]! This forbidden arcana allows the user to debour HIS OWN testicles in no time!

Get your bottle of scents, sensual Portuguese chest oils, and fucking designer-drug bath salts for the low, low price of a passionate, unceassing self-blowjob! And use my code FRONTALASSETS for 60% OFF in your next soul-robbing foray into the felational dark arts!

Big ups to BloodCurse for sponsoring this RRRRRRRR~$RRR$$RR%5RRRRR$0000:>A48CC50A E3A1B22A : 330D4750 7C24E5A5|.......*3.GP|$.. 5262E7D5 0D1C24E6 : 85594B39 1CB7593E|Rb......YK9..Y>

:~

Try:
Read_Localizated_Content_(Ita)
😉

Ho trovato questo meme su fb... Rido follemente 😂😂

Except ItalianNotInstalledError:
I found this meme on fb...
M: I won't lie Neo, whoever fought an agent is dead. But where they lost you'll be victorious.

N: why?

M: I saw agents throw fists through concrete. Man shoot loads of bullet on them without hitting anything else than air.
Their strength and speed, however, remain result of the application of a system with many rules.
And you.
You are italian

(referring to our ability to avoid, bend, ignore and replace rules)

😂😂😂

The Odyssey of the Tenacious Tester:

Once upon a time in the digital kingdom of Binaryburg, there lived a diligent software tester named Alice. Alice was on a mission to ensure the flawless functionality of the kingdom's latest creation – the Grand Software Citadel.

The Grand Software Citadel was a marvel, built by the brilliant developers of Binaryburg to serve as the backbone of all digital endeavors. However, with great complexity came an even greater need for meticulous testing.

Alice, armed with her trusty testing toolkit, embarked on a journey through the intricate corridors of the Citadel. Her first challenge was the Maze of Edge Cases, where unexpected scenarios lurked at every turn. With a keen eye and a knack for uncovering hidden bugs, Alice navigated the maze, leaving no corner untested.

As she progressed, Alice encountered the Chamber of Compatibility, a place where the Citadel's code had to dance harmoniously with various browsers and devices. With each compatibility test, she waltzed through the intricacies of cross-browser compatibility, ensuring that the Citadel would shine on every screen.

But the true test awaited Alice in the Abyss of Load and Performance. Here, the Citadel's resilience was put to the test under the weight of simulated user hordes. Alice, undeterred by the mounting pressure, unleashed her army of virtual users upon the software, monitoring performance metrics like a hawk.

In the end, after days and nights of relentless testing, Alice emerged victorious. The Grand Software Citadel stood strong, its code fortified against the perils of bugs and glitches.

To honor her dedication, the software gods bestowed upon Alice the coveted title of Bug Slayer and a badge of distinction for her testing prowess. The testing community of Binaryburg celebrated her success, and her story became a legend shared around digital campfires.

And so, dear software testers, let the tale of Alice inspire you in your testing quests. May your test cases be thorough, your bug reports clear, and your software resilient against the challenges of the digital realm.

In the world of software testing, every diligent tester is a hero in their own right, ensuring that the digital kingdoms stand tall and bug-free.

You know the point where you should stop coding and think back about what the hell are you doing because the shit is getting crazy?

I just passed it whooshing at the speed of light, leaving behind me moments where removing readme.md changes the error being thrown and using `${someStringVariable}` gives different results from just using the variable - and I do not intend to stop.
I want to see the fiery hell of JavaScript and emerge on the other side victorious or a broken man. No other option.

Dear Diary,
Today is October 31st, ‘Halloween’ according to ancient pagan tradition. I can’t help but wonder if those pagans of yore felt as I do now in their attempts to yoke unruly bands of spirits. I sit wearily at my desk in painful and tiresome reckoning with those new hellcats we call node dependencies. Many an hour I have toiled, maestro of a cacophonous orchestra akin to that tucked in later pages of Bulgakov’s magnum opus, pleading with the band to follow my wand. And to no avail. In the wee hours of the morn I can scarcely tell who is conducting who. My sleep laden eyes blink on each execution of yarn install, my fingers knowingly re-execute with an up-arrow enter when that instruction is returned with gnarled, gruesome errors. And I ask again: “who is conducting who?!“. Will this great devil of machinery eventually meet me with an error so fearsome that I myself lay asunder? It is a battle, make no mistake. It is the “trial of a thousand years”! And who shall come out victorious I know not, but rest shall not come until I either lay myself down into the jaws of dependency hell or emerge victorious.

Dear Diary,
Today is November 1st. Compiled on the first try, no additional changes FML

Not a rant, but an argument between my colleagues and I over an erroneous form in a nutshell:
Them: -insert xyz deductions-
Me, an intellectual: The page is being redirected before the form processing finishes
Them: Buuuuullshit, how can that be?
Me: JavaScript.

15 minutes later, I emerged victorious. How? Because JavaScript.

I skipped all those boring cake cutting bday parties at office late year, including mine :)