I fucking love my parents.

Came to visit them again and told them that I might buy an iPhone in the future (I fucking hate apple/i-devices and they know that).

Mom: "You are going to WHAT? Are you okay, son?"
Dad: *walks towards me and puts hand on forehead* "Hmmm, doesn't seem to be that warm. Maybe we should visit a psychiatrist soon."

Me: 😂. mom, dad, I fucking love you.

I put a lot of work into trying to explain to you muggles what I do all day in a way you can understand (it's hard, trust me) and you still reject it as boring nerd crap. I'm sick of it! What if you told me working at that restaurant is "putting water on plates, wiping it off, and putting meat and cheese between slices of bread" and I said "wtf is that, and who cares?" Wouldn't that hurt your feelings, that I didn't even attempt to make a connection with you, friend? That I didn't even attempt to step outside my experience to meet yours? Isn't it equally insulting how far you have to dumb it down, just for me to lose interest entirely? And yes, I know that's not your specific task. That only proves my point further.

And why, exactly? Conceptually, you handle pre-digested poop all day.
_I teach plastic to think._ Sometimes it even thinks better than you do.
How is my job less interesting?
And what's more, why does EVERYONE seem to think so?

How do you expect people like me to keep your iPhones, bank accounts, and self-driving cars working if you alienate us like an alternate species for building those things? I mean really. You people treat us with a disinterest harmonious with homophobia. "Don't ask, don't tell." Except you do ask. And then you condescend as if working with my brain makes me less worthy of your attention than your exciting minimum-wage restaurant job.

Have fun with that, by the way.

Oh, and you're welcome for <object I fixed that wasn't really broken>. Maybe next time, just google it.
I know you won't.

Found on one of the Linux page in facebook.

Let's see if this kitty survives the code review and makes it to production.

"Let's do some pair programming! It will be fun!"

... Fuck no.

Either I start coding and you open a beer, or the other way around. And sure, I do not mind doing each other's code reviews. I respect your feedback.

But I can't look over your shoulder while you misspell keywords. When I write code, I search, try, debug and play at a high speed.

I'm an impressionist/surrealist writing messy passionate functions, breaking lots of things with broad paintbrush strokes before finishing it into detailed perfection. I remember all the places in the code I need to work on, and cover everything with tests.

You're a baroque coder, sometimes even a hyperrealist, with your two-finger 10 wpm typing, writing code strictly line-by-line, decorating every statement with the right checks & typehints in advance. You can not keep two functions in your head at the same time. You write tests reluctantly, but you hate that I barely plan. You plan everything, including your pee breaks.

As a coworker I respect you.

But there is no bigger hell than pair programming with you.

First job was coding voice alarm s Systems (1998) primarily using Delphi and programming act microcontrollers using avrco pascal and act assembler.

They were happy days