And this is a more technical part. Great place to add more context by adding the question here.
TikTok
Unfiltered confessions. Text overlays that make zero sense. Stitch a video of a raccoon stealing pizza and caption it “me trying to explain emotional labor to my manager.” Shitposts thrive when they don’t try to teach or trend-hack. The sweet spot? Somewhere between performance art and a brain cell losing signal.
Once the land of picture-perfect lattes and Lightroom presets, Instagram is now a haunted house with a Reels tab. Shitposting thrives in the gaps between grid curation and total collapse. Instagram may have started as a bragging app. But in 2025, the real flex is having the weirdest, least explainable content on the platform.
Threads
Currently, Threads is the Wild West. Meta barely knows what to do with it. It’s a shitposter’s dream: low stakes, high lawlessness. Use it to build lore, drop fake confessions, and share screenshots that feel illegal. (No one does it better than Katie Notopoulos.)
X
The blueprint. The sewer. The holy scroll of your inside thoughts. Twitter, sorry, X, is where shitposting was refined in fire and then smoked like a questionable herb. Every tweet should feel like you broke out of an institution with WiFi access. Bonus points for polls that destroy friendships or Photoshops that make zero sense but feel spiritually correct.
YouTube Shorts
Disturbing animations. "Anti-vlogs." Shitpost cooking tutorials with voiceover like "welcome to my kitchen, where nothing is edible." YouTube Shorts boosts these pocket-sized panic attacks to millions. Shitposters are building cults here, accidentally going viral with no plan and no intention of slowing down.
Want to go viral on LinkedIn in 2025? Write like you blacked out during a TED Talk and came to holding a LaCroix and an NFT of your student loan debt. Think “Woke up, built a SaaS product in my dreams, cried, pitched it to my cat, raised $3M.” Use the syntax of self-congratulatory hustle posts, then inject it with raw internet derangement.
Do: Stay On-Brand
If you’re going to share a hot take, make sure it’s relevant to your brand as a creator or business. For example, if you run a food account, debate whether ketchup belongs in a smoothie. Or, if you're a lifestyle creator, poke fun at morning routines.
Don’t: Chase Shock Value for Shock’s Sake
Random opinions that have nothing to do with your usual content will only confuse your followers and dilute your voice.
If it’s offensive, unrelated, or just too weird for your audience, skip it. The algorithm might boost it, but your followers won’t forget it.
Do: Leave Room for Interpretation
Ambiguity is powerful. Did you mean that typo? Is your take satirical or serious? Don’t over-explain. Mystery fuels discourse (we’ve all seen the Severance subreddit).
Don’t: Undermine Your Credibility
Lying (even playfully) can cost you trust. There’s a big difference between posting “The Eiffel Tower is in Italy! 🇮🇹” and “Mr. Beast is dead — just kidding, new merch drop! 🤪” Engagement isn’t worth eroding audience loyalty.
Do: Acknowledge the Discourse
You don’t have to admit anything, but a cheeky comment like “Y’all are passionate about fonts, huh?” goes a long way. It shows you’re in on the joke, without deflating the engagement balloon.
Don’t: Make Every Post a Provocation
If everything you share feels like bait, your audience will catch on and likely unfollow you.
A little chaos goes a long way. Let your content breathe between spicy posts.
@shitpost_lore_bot
“This is worse than the Wendy’s drive-thru incident of 2023.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“No thoughts, just the time I got banned from Club Penguin for unionizing puffles.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“I still can’t sit near microwaves after The Panera Incident.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“Which screams louder: a fax machine or my inner child?”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“Would you rather: marry your ex’s dad OR eat soup forever but never pee again?”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“Pick a superpower: irreversible shrimp cravings or the ability to smell internet drama before it drops.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“Haven’t been the same since The Olive Garden Seance.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“As always, all decisions are made in honor of The Shrimp Pact.”
@shitpost_lore_bot
“The duck incident is sealed in NDA and marinara.”
Delaney is a master of high-effort absurdism. Her character sketches parody internet archetypes like the anxious overthinker, the girlboss in denial, or your college roommate who thinks sarcasm is a personality trait. While her videos are polished, her humor is often deeply strange. She’ll go from lip-syncing a breakup voicemail to staging an existential crisis in a parking lot.
She balances satire with social commentary, and by mid-2025, she’s amassed a cult following of over 4 million across platforms. Her shitposting energy lies in how convincingly she collapses identity into caricature and then makes it relatable.
Emily Feret is like if your brain had a baby with your Notes app. A Chicago-based mom turned poster extraordinaire, she mixes intrusive thoughts, unhinged affirmations, and surreal captions with mundane photos of cereal and clutter. Think: "If I die in this outfit, delete my digital footprint" over a bowl of Frosted Flakes.
Emily has cracked the code on what it means to be terminally online and endearingly real. She leans into overshare culture without forcing relatability — and in 2025, she’s thriving with more than 1 million followers who beg her never to become normal.
The name is not a joke — @shitpostgod lives up to it. With a feed that’s part cursed prophecy, part meme autopsy, he’s mastered the art of shitposting as spiritual experience. His carousels are disorderly sermons, his Reels look like someone edited them during an anxiety attack, and the comments section is a collective breakdown.
Enjoy screenshots of confessions, psychic damage memes, and captions like “this cured my trust issues and gave me new ones.” 1.2 million followers come back for the dopamine and the delusion.
Grace is a former nurse turned full-time comedian whose videos feel like high-speed therapy sessions written by your inner child. Her sketches often lean on absurdity and cultural satire — imagine the calamity of trying to survive a group project while also being clinically depressed, and you're halfway there. Her content is fast, loud, and laced with intentional nonsense.
Grace's comedic timing and willingness to make herself the punchline make her a shitpost queen. She's currently sitting at nearly two million followers and is one of the rare creators who’s managed to stay consistently funny through the algorithm apocalypse of early 2025.
Madeline is the founder of Tunnel Vision (a sustainable fashion brand), but her content goes way beyond aesthetics. She’s a shitposting oracle — sharing frenzied, funny, and occasionally deeply political takes in between mirror selfies and business advice. Her undertones are part thrift-goblin, part punk philosopher, part unhinged auntie. She’ll roast landlords one minute and post "accidentally hot pics" the next. Her content ranges from “DIY nihilism” to social justice memes that feel like digital graffiti.
Yes, LinkedIn. Ken Cheng is proof that no platform is safe from the shitposting renaissance. A comedian by trade, Ken has weaponized the polished, try-hard tone of LinkedIn and flipped it inside out. His posts parody hustle culture, founder worship, and productivity porn with deadpan perfection. When LinkedIn collapses into a pile of unpaid internships and HR microaggressions, Ken will be standing on the ashes, still posting.