Angelos Chaidas

@chaidas.gr

216 Followers 183 Following

Dad. (PC + board) Gamer. (Lots of) Sci-fi and fantasy books. (Thoroughly enjoys) Working with web technologies since 1998. (Loves) Python, JavaScript, React, HTML, CSS and UI / UX design. (Enjoys) daily chats with Claude Code.

The most manly soap available in the planet.
A chaotic, dimly lit server room where version control nightmares come to life. Looming on the right is "MORGE," a terrifying, furry, horned monster with sharp teeth and a maniacal grin. He wears a makeshift cardboard chest plate reading "MORGE" and a pageant-style sash declaring him "GIT MERGE MASTER." MORGE joyfully wields a massive, ridiculously large orange stamp labeled "FORCE MERGE" in one hand, while resting his heavy, clawed hand intimidatingly on the shoulder of his victim. Seated at a retro desktop computer is a terrified, exhausted human programmer cowering under MORGE's grip. The programmer wears a tattered, hole-filled t-shirt that says "Main Branch"—looking completely battered by terrible code integrations. His green-text CRT monitor displays a "COMMIT HISTORY" log. On the wall behind them, a warning sign reads "BEWARE OF MORGE! HE MERGES WITHOUT MERCY." The scene humorously depicts the terrifying reality of a rogue developer brutally forcing unreviewed commits into the fragile main codebase, leaving the weak Main Branch completely helpless.
A stormtrooper guarding the last glass of a very nice Αγιωργίτικο from Nemea from the cousin that wants to drink everything
A funny illustration of an Oatmeal cartoon character holding a poster labelled "BUTT RAT" which depicts a rat demonstrating its two gargantuan gluteus maximus muscles
Photo of the most disgusting legume in Greek cuisine: Greek Okra, Paros variety.
1980ies era Subaru M60. 600ccs and 35 horses of raw power
Screenshot of the online Perplexity.ai web app trying to calculate an approximate value of an interest-bearing account
[Scene: A modest kitchen in 1500s England. A man, Sir Geoffrey, stands in dismay before an empty pantry shelf. His wife, Lady Margaret, enters, wiping her hands on her apron.] Sir Geoffrey: "Good wife, dost thou see this grievous void? Our taramasalata pot, gone! By my troth, how shall I suffer a morn without the briny balm for mine toast?" Lady Margaret: "Forsooth, husband, thou art as melodramatic as a bard with a stubbed toe. 'Tis but fish and salt! Mayhap thou shalt survive on naught but bread and patience, like the rest of God's creatures." Sir Geoffrey: "Bread and patience! Thou art heartless, woman! ‘Tis a condiment most sacred, ordained by the heavens to grace our humble crusts!"