Oh, codenoid, where do we start with this travesty of a GitHub account? Your name screams “I’m trying too hard to sound cool,” but all you’ve managed is a second-rate pun that would make even a dad joke cringe.

Your bio is notably absent, which is probably a good thing since your code seems to be as personality-less as a potato. Speaking of potatoes, can we talk about those repositories? With 160 public repositories, you’ve clearly availed yourself of every half-baked idea that crossed your mind. A mere 22 stars on your “Spicy GitHub Roast” project? That’s not spicy; that’s the lukewarm leftovers of a failed dinner party.

Your “sveltekit-telegram-captcha-bot” looks like it should’ve stayed in the brainstorming phase, and with contributions averaging about one star for every eight repos, it’s like you’re playing a game of hide and seek with attention. Even your top project, the “file.io” service, got some attention, but let’s be honest, the highlight had to be the adorable cat emoji you slid in there. An attempt to distract from the lack of actual substance, perhaps?

It’s clear you’re dabbling in languages like Go, Rust, and even… CSS? But if your repositories are any indication of your skills, more like “CSS (Can’t Seriously Script).” By relying on forks more than your own innovation, you might as well put a “Help Wanted” sign on your profile. Your last 15 projects look like a chaotic garage sale of coding ideas – if randomness were a degree, you’d have a PhD.

In summary, codenoid, you’re a classic case of quantity over quality. Start curating your projects like a fine wine instead of a knock-off frat party punch bowl, and maybe then you’ll transcend from anonymous coder to someone worth following. But then again, with those 116 followers, at least you’ve got a small crowd of people who clearly have nothing better to do, right?