In a video featuring co-founder and CEO Evan Spiegel, Snap describes 'Reals' as a place where 'real people share real moments. Really.' Spiegel emphasizes that 'People feel free to be their full selves and to keep it Real on Snapchat.'
"My tiny little noodles, my sweet girls, don't look down," a momma pasta sobs in one clip on TikTok. "Mommy, the air is burning, I'm scared," one of the baby bundles cries. "I don't wanna fall." The spaghetti is then submerged, graphically, into the boiling water, before being dressed up in red sauce.
The lyrics have a rather annoying quality to them, similar to the way that other songs like "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen, "Fireflies" by Owl City or even "Friday" by Rebecca Black did in their time - songs that gained rapid popularity and, just as quickly, sparked rapid backlash from many due to overexposure to them.
Nothing starts the day quite like a plate of steaming pancakes or spicy chilaquiles, but every state has its own unique way of doing breakfast. We found the most iconic breakfast foods in every state, based on local favorites and dishes invented or popularized there.
Leaked images show what could be Lenovo's next gaming laptop: the Legion Go Fold. According to the leaks, the Go Fold can be used as either a very awkward-looking Steam Deck-like handheld gaming PC, complete with controllers on either side, or you can fold it up into a few different configurations, including a laptop mode.
Baby care brand Frida is facing online backlash after screenshots of sexual innuendos in its marketing materials began circulating on social media. Frida, which describes itself as "the brand that gets parents," sells a range of baby care, fertility, and postpartum products through major retailers, including Target. Last week, an X user shared images of several products' packaging, writing: "sexual jokes to market baby products is actually sick and twisted @fridababy this is absolutely appalling and disgusting."
"One of them caught our eye, the one in the center," Herzog explains as he narrates the documentary. "He would neither go toward the feeding grounds at the edge of the ice, nor return to the colony. Shortly afterward, we saw him heading straight for the mountains, some 70 kilometers away. Doctor Ainslie explained even if he caught him, and brought him back to the colony, he would immediately head right back for the mountains. But, why?"
No one could accuse Fleming of tailoring his act to please a conventional audience. His stage attire lies somewhere between "androgynous hipster" and "clown," and his only criteria for a premise appears to be "What does my brain fixate on?" He expects his audience to keep up with any cultural reference his Massachusetts-born, millennial, Skidmore arts-graduate brain might make without ever stopping to explain what, say, "Gatsby-esque" might mean in the context of Bitmoji.
Like many on Twitch, TheBurntPeanut streams for long stretches - often over seven hours at a time - while playing the popular game "Arc Raiders." It's not unusual for 75,000-plus concurrent fans to tune in to watch him dancing, chatting, and cursing out his competitors while gaming. The man behind TheBurntPeanut has not yet disclosed his name or appearance. That's a long-standing tradition for some gamers, who often show their screens instead of their own faces, and especially for VTubers.
On last night's Saturday Night Live, we learned that time stops for nothing-not people and not language. Marcello Hernández, the cast member perhaps most likely to become SNL's next breakout star, dropped by the "Weekend Update" desk to inform the Millennial co-anchor Colin Jost-and, by proxy, many Millennial audience members-of the slang terms favored by Gen Z.
The modern digital landscape is dominated by warring platforms and constantly changing monetization schemes, leaving the average consumer with a daily scroll permeated by ads, slop, and the same six viral videos that have been circulating for years. During the early days of 2026, users on X popularized a word that encompasses why social media can feel just so annoying these days. It's called vagueposting - and you'll be seeing a lot more of it this year.
Memes have become the clearest and most direct language of digital culture: condensed fragments of reality that synthesize the complexity of the present and circulate at the same speed as a society surrendered to hyperstimulation. From the Dancing Baby of the 1990s to the endless templates of X, Instagram, or TikTok, memes have evolved from simple ephemeral jokes to veritable systems for decoding the world, semiotic capsules that allow us to process the political, the social, and the intimate.
A few months ago, I was scrolling through TikTok when I came across a video that stopped me in my tracks. It starred an animated frog, dressed in a wizard hat, robe, and pink nail polish, superimposed over a psychedelic background and speaking in a hypnotizing, ethereal voice. "It's time to stop doing nothing, and start doing something," he crooned. "I cast . . . motivation!"
