Funny Memes: Why We Still Can’t Stop Laughing in 2025

The phrase “funny memes” once referred to simple image macros on message boards, yet it now covers everything from TikTok audios to AI‑generated sketches. In 2025, memes move across platforms at light‑speed, stitching together pop‑culture references, social commentary and shared in‑jokes. Even if you never post online, chances are you quote or forward a meme every day. That ubiquity raises an obvious question: what makes funny memes so enduring—and why are they funnier than ever right now?

A brief rewind—from Doge to deepfakes

To appreciate today’s meme culture, it helps to remember its Shiba‑shaped ancestor. The Doge image macro (circa 2010) surrounded Kabosu the Shiba Inu with Comic Sans phrases like “such wow,” teaching a whole generation the grammar of internet irony. Scholars often cite Doge as the first truly global meme because it jumped from Tumblr to Reddit to CNN in months Wikipedia. Even Kabosu’s death in May 2024 became a meme‑laden farewell, showing how strongly audiences bond with these symbols The Sun.

What actually makes a meme “funny”?

Comedy theorists talk about incongruity—the jolt you feel when a punchline swerves from expectations. Memes add two extra layers: remixability (the format begs you to tweak it) and collective timing (millions hit “share” within hours). The humour lands because the audience already knows the template; your tiny twist feels clever and communal at once. Neuroscientists even see a dopamine blip when we recognise a pattern and then see it subverted. That chemical reward is why scrolling an endless meme thread can feel weirdly addictive.

Case study: the Jet2 holiday advert remix

The summer’s standout example is the “Nothing Beats a Jet2 Holiday” montage. TikTokers pair Jet2’s cheery jingle with footage of truly awful vacations—rain‑soaked loungers, chaotic pool rescues—flipping glossy advertising into slapstick satire. More than 1.3 million clips have now used the audio, forcing the airline (and singer Jess Glynne) to lean into the joke with its own challenge campaign The Guardian. It’s a master‑class in how corporate material can be hijacked, re‑contextualised and—if the brand is smart—turned into mutually beneficial fun.

2025’s meme menu: what’s hot right now?

According to social‑media analytics firm NapoleonCat, July’s top formats include:

• Jet2 holiday fails (see above).

• “Holy f‑‑‑ing airball”: three‑panel pics capturing spectacular misses, from botched dinners to job interviews gone wrong.

• AI “You wake up as…” POV videos that mash historic disasters with Gen‑Z sarcasm (“POV: you wake up as a 20‑year‑old after a night out”).

• Series‑finale reaction shots—particularly The Last of Us Season 2 and Severance Season 2, whose shocking plot twists spawned thousands of caption‑freeze frames. 

Each trend comes with a simple formula users can copy‑paste, guaranteeing low effort for high laughs—and viral potential.

The new engines of virality

1. Short‑form video: Reels and TikToks deliver punchlines in under 15 seconds, making memes snackable on mobile data.

2. AI generators: Tools like Midjourney and video‑to‑text overlays let anyone fabricate absurd scenes—say, a medieval knight anxiously checking Wi‑Fi bars—in minutes.

3. Cross‑platform seeding: A joke that starts on TikTok is screen‑recorded onto X (Twitter), screenshot onto Instagram, then packaged into a YouTube compilation. Each hop adds new audiences and inside jokes.

4. Brand co‑option: Companies now budget for meme “free‑radicals” who riff on trending formats the moment they appear, hoping to look human rather than corporate.

Why funny memes matter

Beyond easy laughs, memes act as cultural shorthand. They compress complex emotions—pandemic angst, economic dread, streaming‑series heartbreak—into a single, absurd punchline everyone instantly decodes. In that sense they’re the 21st‑century equivalent of political cartoons or newspaper comics, only participatory and global. As long as people crave quick relief from doom‑scrolling, funny memes will keep mutating, reflecting back our hopes, irritations and collective quirks in endlessly remixable form.

So next time you forward a Jet2 disaster clip or type “much wow,” remember: you’re not just killing time. You’re contributing to a living, laughing archive of how we see the world in 2025—and how we choose to laugh at it together.