The 30 Funniest Filipinos Online

(SPOT.ph) Most of us look back at the pandemic as the beginning and end of things, and in the field of local entertainment, it was the end of the TV show as we knew it, and the moment we really leaned in to our phones and the allure of the super short form narrative, made especially for our then anxious, easily distracted selves.

It was also the time when the restless and housebound needed an outlet for their thoughts—and the Internet provided a limitless, welcoming stage. No need for a talent manager anymore, or an editor to approve your script. It was the kind of world where bold and fresh ideas flourished, and anyone with great content can be a star. Extra points if you’re funny.

Oh how we craved laughter back then. And so names like Davao Conyo and Macoy Dubs began inching their ways to marquees previously reserved only for the Vice Gandas and Rufa Mae Quintos. We remember Justine Luzares and his Mariteses who spill their tea with a British accent; Baus Rufo and his ad agency insider humor which somehow resonated even with non-ahensya folk; the cherub-faced Lottie B and that one video that started it all for her—where she assumed a character who had gotten so maddeningly rich she was reprimanding her daughter for earning a scholarship.

Fast forward to today and there are so many more of their kind, from podcasters to skit creators and everything in between. In this special Spot Weekender, we celebrate them, this rather young specie in the entertainment universe. They need watching over, nurturing, and encouraging. They deserve all the likes and the love. After all, they give us priceless reprieve from all of life's unwanted chaos. They helped bring us out of the lockdown years with sanity intact. Here’s to them who do it really well. May their tribe increase.

As he stepped onto a pedestrian crossing during a recent trip in Tokyo, Fonz caught an unexpected detail at the corner of his eye: a Volvo.

Most people would quicken their pace and cross without thinking. But Fonz—whose real name is Aldrich Nartia—isn’t like most people. In that still, suspended moment, he thought: “Maybe the driver is an old Japanese man, someone nearing the end of his life, wondering who should inherit this Volvo.”

“Maybe he’ll give it to me.”

Fonz lingered, his gaze fixed on the car, his steps slowing. The longer he looked, the more the thought took hold. “If I keep looking,” he imagined, “maybe he’ll decide that I deserve it.”

It was a fragile logic, but one he followed all the same—stretching the moment just enough for the impossible to feel negotiable. In his mind, the crossing was not just a crossing but an exchange, a wordless persuasion unfolding between him and a stranger behind the wheel. For a few seconds, he let his imagination carry him all the way to the other curb.

By the time he reached the other side, he realized the absurdity of his imagination. But this is a typical day in the life of Fonz, and with this randomness, he has amassed over a million online followers. Starting with just a seed of an idea—a beginning-middle-end narrative arc—he records skits with random characters and outrageous plot twists. He has become a ghost, a cockroach, and the Strait of Hormuz—all while holding a lapel microphone.

Fonz likens his imagination to that of Ally McBeal: the late 1990s–early 2000s legal dramedy lead character known for her tendency to drift into elaborate daydreams. For him, though, these weren’t just flights of fancy—they started as a way of coping.

“I was always alone as a child,” Fonz discloses, “I got bullied a lot for being gay.” In response to the bullying, Fonz imagined different versions of himself in a world that didn’t make space for who he was.

Whenever loneliness crept in, he would return to the same thought: what if I were actually the child of a billionaire? He held onto these fantasies to lift himself, even just for a moment, from where he was: imagining over and over that in a single instant, a sudden turn, or a revelation, his life would be completely different.

But imagination, for Fonz, wasn’t just a response—it was also something he inherited.

Fonz says his being eccentric partly comes from his mother, who would casually make the same kind of offbeat remarks. In their household, this way of thinking wasn’t unusual; it was the norm. Absurdity, in that sense, was never something Fonz had to learn or invent. If being a loner sharpened his imagination, family helped it thrive.

When he was in fifth grade, back in 2000, an 11-year-old Fonz performed at a Christmas party at school in his hometown Cavite. In front of his classmates, he launched into a dramatic scene, playing a poor student. He cried in the middle of the performance, fully committing in a way only a child could.

When it was over, his teacher said something that would stay with him: “Alam mo, mag-artista ka. Kaya mo.”

That was where the first glimmer of a dream began: that one day, he could become a star.

Upon turning 18, Fonz began making a series of changes in his life. He took breaks from school to work, moving through at least 15 jobs—call center agent (at multiple companies), barista, online English tutor to Koreans, even a “fundraising officer” soliciting donations for endangered wildlife in malls. He stayed anywhere from one to eight months in each role, growing increasingly restless with the monotony of day-to-day work.

Each job felt like a version of himself he was testing out—the same instinct that once led him to imagine different lives as a child, and would later allow him to inhabit so many characters on screen.

Still, the desire remained: he wanted to be an actor. So he turned to theater.

During his stint in theater, Fonz found himself scrolling through Facebook groups late into the night, searching for auditions, anything that might lead to paid work. One listing that caught his attention was a commercial for a toothpaste brand: they were looking for dancers. The roles, as it turned out, came with a hierarchy. There was a leading artist, then the main backup dancers—and then, at the very bottom, the “super duper” backup dancers. That was the slot he aimed for.

From Cavite, he travelled to Manila on the day of the audition. Twenty of them stood in one line for the first round. Before they could even dance, the casting director said, “Let’s take some of you off first.” She looked at Fonz: “Sir, thank you for coming.”

She ushered the remaining 19 back in.

“I didn’t even get to dance. They literally just looked at me,” Fonz recounted. “I was so heartbroken. I just wanted to dance.”

He remembers the journey home more than the audition itself. There was no Waze back then, no Google Maps to guide him: just directions passed along and a lot of walking.

Another time, he found an audition posting in a Facebook group—this one for a TV show looking for someone to play a butler. But it required something he didn’t have: a proper set card. So he did what he could. He went to Tronix and got a 2x2 photo.

As the casting assistant flipped through the photos, he held up one of the prints: “Sino ‘to?”

Fonz raised his hand.

The caster yelled: “Wag niyo ngang ine-edit yung mga pictures niyo!” The room broke out in laughter. At that moment, Fonz didn’t know how to see himself the same way again.

During this season of rejections, Fonz found solace in making memes. The acceptance he didn’t find in auditions, he found online: he posted memes on his now-defunct Twitter (now-X) account, which would pave the way for several viral moments, particularly one that would lead to a long-term stint.

Inspired by his unemployment, Fonz created a meme using clips of Kris Aquino answering questions to make it look like she was responding to a job interview. The video reached Kris, who then offered him a job. He became a part of her production team.
Unlike the short-lived roles he had cycled through before, this one lasted. Fonz stayed for three years, until Kris stepped away from the entertainment industry.

He was then absorbed by Cornerstone Agency to lead its social media. But the timing proved difficult—the move coincided with the ABS-CBN closure, and before long, he found himself out of work once again.

Suddenly unemployed, Fonz found himself circling back to an old ambition. He auditioned for a boys’ love (BL) series and, for a change, got in.

Haunted by past rejections, he began looking for ways to rebuild his confidence. He opened a TikTok account to practice acting and get comfortable in front of a camera—unaware that this small, private exercise would lead to his biggest break.

The TikTok videos began as self-training, but they quickly evolved into something more. Viewers responded to his content—enjoying the way he could turn everyday situations into character-driven sketches with absurd but strangely believable twists.
His background as a meme maker sharpened his instinct for what resonates with audiences, but at his core, he just sees himself as a person who just happens to be funny.

“I know comedians are [not like this],” he explains. “They really sit down and they really think about [their material]. They are really serious about being comedians. [On the contrary,] there are things that I say that can be funny, that a lot of people can relate to.”.

Today, in 2026, Fonz has crossed over into television through GMA’s Apoy sa Dugo, where he plays—drum roll please—Fonzi, a role deliberately shaped around his own persona. This time, there were no auditions: he was invited to join the cast.

He recently wrapped shooting, which gave him the privilege to work alongside veteran actors like Pinky Amador. “I'm not there to become famous or to show off. I'm there to absorb everything that I've always wanted to experience”—what it's like on set, how the director calls action, how scenes are blocked, how it feels to be slapped on cue. He says, “It’s a dream come true.”

“Looking back, tama yung friends ko,” Fonz says. “They really believed in me. They really saw the star in me—huy!”

But it’s not simply the case that there was always a star waiting to emerge. What makes Fonz even more special is how the many, seemingly disconnected parts of his life have accumulated into the person audiences now recognize. He grew up navigating solitude, coming to terms with being gay in spaces that didn’t always make room for that identity. Later, he resisted the monotony of a nine-to-five, and discovered the pulse of the masses by creating memes. There was a persistent sense that being an actor was possible, even if the path toward it remained unclear.

The ultimate plot twist is: nothing in his history was wasted.

Every face of Fonz forms something larger than the sum of its parts: like the slow formation of a star, each stage gathering mass and energy until, at last, it learns to shine.

Back on that pedestrian crossing in Japan, staring a little too long at a Volvo, Fonz dared to imagine that a luxury car might become his.

He didn’t get it then—but who’s to say he never will?

From Fonz’s imagination, we learn the instinct to believe—even briefly—that something distant could become ours. But from the way he, as much a man on the street as any of us, navigates life, we learn that success is something we can arrive at—unemployment and multiple rejections be damned—by walking far enough, working hard enough, and dreaming boldly enough to make it real.

Follow Fonz on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook.

If we were to describe the comedy of the KoolPals, it would be: not for the faint of heart.

James Caraan, GB Labrador, Nonong Ballinan, Ryan Rems, and Muman Reyes have collectively amassed more than 70,000 followers on social media and racked up roughly 30 million streams on Spotify. They’ve sold out live shows, opened their own podcast-comedy venue, and built one of the country’s most loyal fan communities. They didn’t get there by walking on eggshells or kissing ass.

If you’ve somehow avoided the podcast corner of the internet, think of the KoolPals as your friendly neighborhood titos on Spotify. Their humor can veer from juvenile sex jokes and nostalgic throwbacks to surprisingly thoughtful discussions about politics, health, relationships, and anything (and everything) under the sun. What started as a podcast recorded in Labrador’s house, guesting fellow comedians and talking about the comic life, has since evolved into one of Spotify’s top local productions, welcoming guests from all walks of life. The KoolPals table has been graced by Pinoy pop culture royalty Jolina Magdangal and Marvin Agustin, musicians like the guys from Sponge Cola, internet sensation Kween Yasmin, government officials like Bong Nebrija, and even eccentrics such as a self-proclaimed “hybrid aswang” and high-end escort Mystic Flower.

That lineup is as random as it gets, but in the KoolPals universe, everyone is welcome. Whether they’re talking to a celebrity or someone who claims to be part supernatural creature, the vibe rarely changes: five friends exchanging jokes, asking wildly unpredictable questions, and finding comedy whichever direction the conversation takes them.

“Talagang genuine ‘yong tawanan. ‘Di siya fabricated na, “Oh, ito ang sasabihin mo. Tapos tatawa kaming lahat.’ Hindi mo talaga ineexpect kung sino ‘yong magpapatawa talaga o sino ‘yong hihirit ng nakakatawa, ” says Labrador 

You’d think that anything-goes approach is the secret to the KoolPals’ success. But that’s just part of the story; the main draw is the chemistry between five wildly different comic personalities who spend every episode roasting, challenging, and cracking each other up. 

There’s Caraan, the group’s resident intrusive thought generator. The other four describe him as the guy who blurts out the joke everyone is thinking, but doesn’t have the balls to say out loud. 

“Si James ang tanging host na nakapagtanong kay Marvin and Jolina ng favorite sex position nila sa buong buhay nila sa showbiz,” says Labrador, fighting a laugh. He cites it as Exhibit A of just how unfiltered Caraan can be. “Si James yung kaibigan mong dapat nasa GC lang,” adds Reyes.

Then there’s Ballinan, who is the group’s resident character performer and peacemaker. Caraan describes him as “child-like,” seeing as he’s the most soft-spoken of the five. But don’t let that fool you. His special power is turning any scenario into a character bit while defusing tense conversations (a.k.a. Ryan Rems or GB's politically charged rants) with a perfectly timed punchline. 

“Kapag acting, or ‘yong gagawa ng karakter, ipapasa mo na kay Nonong ‘yan. Siya na talaga ang maglilipad niyan,” says Labrador. Which should come as no surprise, seeing as Ballinan (along with Caraan) dove deep into acting outside of comedy. From Ang Probinsyano to Home Sweetie Home, he’s had plenty of opportunities to flex the acting muscles that serve him so well on the podcast.

Reyes, on the other hand, is the “wise kuya,” as Ballinan likes to put it. As the group’s storyteller-comedian, Reyes lures listeners into an emotional story—often about his mother and accompanied by real-world wisdom—before shattering the sentimentality with laugh-out-loud wisdumb. Labrador sums him up best: “Si Muman yung talagang kupal. Pero mahal siya ng audience dahil pag kupalan, kupalan talaga pero pag payo, gandang payo.” 

If Reyes is the group’s kuya, Labrador is the captain, serving as the group’s de facto leader—the one tasked with steering conversations and stretching a throwaway joke into a full-blown bit. 

“Ang galing niya magpahaba ng senaryo. May binitaw yung isa, gagatungan niya. May stretch,” says Caraan, describing Labrador’s talent for building on someone else’s joke. 

Ballinan adds, “Sobrang galing ni GB sa direction. Sobrang lawak ng pananaw niya sa mga bagay. Actually, tatay ko siya sa comedy. Sobrang dami niyang naituro sa akin.” 

It’s a role that feels fitting for the founder of Comedy Manila, who has spent years nurturing the local stand-up scene and helping shape the next generation of Filipino comedians. “Kung wala si GB, siguro matagal na kaming na-cancel,” Caraan adds proudly.

Then there’s Ryan Rems, who arguably embodies the group’s resident macho-tito archetype. In Labrador’s words, Ryan Rems is the representation of your “80s uncle,”—the one with strong takes on everything and absolutely no hesitation in sharing them. His comedy often leans into machismo and old-school masculinity. But before you raise the pitchforks and cancel Ryan Rems, the other KoolPals are quick to point out that it’s a character as much as it is a comedic device.

“Ang maganda dito sa amin, nababali namin. Parang kung siya lang, ma-ca-cancel siya, pero kami, nababawi namin, binabasag din namin siya,” says Caraan. Beneath the tough-guy persona, they insist, is a surprisingly soft-hearted guy who’s more than willing to be the butt of the joke himself.

According to Labrador, the group’s dynamic works because nobody is untouchable. “Walang hierarchy, walang ego. Walang, ’Ako ‘yong pinakamatagal, ako ‘yong hindi pwedeng hiritan.’ Wala kaming gano’n. Open field lahat.”

“Actually, open field din kami sa listeners,” he adds, sharing how one time the group joked that if someone donated P5,000 to the podcast, Ryan Rems would wear lipstick and get made up. To their surprise, someone actually sent in the money, resulting in a lot of laughs and one of the group’s core memories from their early days. 

Perhaps that’s another secret to the KoolPals' magic: their relationship with their audience.

For the KoolPals, the audience isn’t just a passive group of listeners—they’re part of the barkada.

“Ang maganda sa pangalan namin, KoolPals. KoolPals kami, pero KoolPals din ang tawag namin sa audience. Walang hierarchy,” explains Labrador.

It’s a philosophy that extends far beyond the name. To this day, the group regularly turns to listeners for guest suggestions, feedback, and even guidance on where the show should go next. One of the things they’re most proud of is how they’ve cultivated a genuine sense of community through regular Zoom sessions with fans. After a particularly memorable episode or controversial guest, the hosts gather with listeners to unpack what happened, hear different perspectives, and process the conversation together.

“Laging ang direction ng podcast is nasa listeners,” says Labrador. 

And perhaps that’s why the KoolPals has endured long after many podcasts have come and gone. They’ve built a comedy show for everyone. Whether you’re a high-rolling VIP or an everyday Joe, you’ll find yourself relating to one KoolPal or two. 

“Dahil siguro lima kami, so may panghahawakan na isang sense of humor ang bawat listener na magrerepresent ng sense of humor niya rin sa show,” says Labrador.

And for the KoolPals, that’s a responsibility they don’t take lightly. For them, its building on this community that truly keeps them going, even beyond episode one million. 

“Everyone will forever be looking for something funny. To get them through traffic, hardship, lahat,” says Labrador “So ang task namin is to never stop joking, or writing something funny about all of this.”

Checkout The Koolpals website. Follow them on Instagram and Facebook. Listen to their podcast on Spotify and Youtube.

When Charlize Ruth Reyes made her Tiktok account back in 2021, she didn’t put too much thought into her handle, except for the character count. “Masyadong maiksi yung ‘Ruth.’ Masyadong mahaba yung ‘Charlize,’ so tinry ko siya na pag-isahin–Charuth.”

She wasn’t even aware of how close @charuth would be to “charot,” which is gay lingo for “just kidding,” Still, it was a happy coincidence: the Tiktok account she started on a whim–at the behest of her younger sister–ended up becoming a platform to tell jokes and share her brand of comedy.

It’s a tale as old as, well, the pandemic.

After posting her first video, she found that she enjoyed making it enough to post a new one everyday. She posted her daily reality: attending online classes and interacting with school staff. “Galing akong school noon. May inasikaso ako tapos saktong nasungitan ako [ng registrar] kasi lunch break. Sabi ko, ‘Ay, nakakatawa ‘yun ah! Re-enact ko nga, gawin kong skit,” she recalls an early inspiration, and that’s when she hit her stride.

“Tapos ‘yung mga comments, ang dami. Yun pala universal experience siya. So starting dun nag-spark yung idea na, try kong mag-share ng mga na-experience ko, irere-enact ko lang yung nangyari sa akin.”

It worked. Within six months of her first post, her videos had gone viral enough for her not just to get tapped by brands to do paid content; she was also getting interviewed on national television. By November, she had joined the cast of Quizon CT (Comedy Theater): a gag show on Net25 run by the late funny man Dolphy’s sons, Eric, Epy, and Vandolph.

It was a full circle moment, as she had grown up watching the Comedy King and Babalu’s old movies with her grandfather. They’re among the reasons she’s funny, she says. And attending family reunions also helped. “Sa family ko, both sides, grabe talaga sila pag nagkukwento. Very animated magkwento ng mga pangyayari para lang magpatawa. Nagiging bangka po sa mga inuman yung mga tito ko!”

If there’s one thing Charuth is good at, it’s her ability to observe people and her surroundings. What makes her comedy work is how relatable it is–because they’re drawn from common, mundane experiences, which she dresses up in vivid facial expressions and bigger-than-life storytelling. There’s a sense of whimsy to her skits, but not too much that it’s so removed from real life; in fact, her sometimes exaggerated reenactments of everyday experiences are exactly what makes it all work–she finds the punchline in interactions we don’t think twice about.

Aside from maintaining her personal page–on which she still makes it a point to post everyday–she has joined Pencilbox Comedy, a production group that creates comedy content online. Headed by Patrick Alcantara, a former Bubble Gang and Quizon CT writer, and consisting of comedians like Donna Cariaga, JP Aguilera, and James Caraan, Pencilbox has opened up Charuth’s horizons. She may have started as a solo content creator–brainstorming, writing, shooting, editing, and posting her skits all by herself–but when she joined bigger productions like Quizon CT and Pencilbox Comedy, she found there is indeed strength in numbers. “Iba ‘yung feeling na may katulong ka sa ginagawa mo. Parang, okay lang pala mag-ask ng help. Okay lang pala maging open sa ideas ng iba. Mas maraming utak, mas nagiging creative din.”

She now enjoys working as part of a team. “Kasi ang saya, at parang less ‘yung burnout kasi alam mong may kabatuhan ka, tapos nai-improve pa ‘yung ideas mo.”

What striking when chatting with Charuth is her strong sense of self–here is a young woman who has found her passion and is intent on pursuing it. But she wasn’t always like this. “Nung wala pa ‘tong online world, super indecisive akong tao. As in, hindi ko talaga alam ‘yung gusto ko. ‘Yung sa course ko, hindi ko din ‘yun alam.” Which is how she found herself in BS Forestry–the same course her older sister took—and studying at the University of the Philippines Los Banos, a no-brainer for this Laguna native. 

“Mas nandun ako sa safe side dati,” she says. It was content creation that helped her form her identity. She was pushing herself to post content everyday, but she realized she had one non-negotiable: that she would only post what is authentic to her. She grew her portfolio and built on her comedic storytelling skills, and in the process shaved away the parts that simply were not what made Charuth, Charuth.

Is she planning on creating comedy content forever? “Siguro, ipupush ko pa rin na nasa line ako ng comedy kasi iba pa rin ‘yung nabibigyan ka ng opportunity na passion mo ‘yung ginagawa mo tas kumikita ka ‘dun. Masaya akong gumagawa ng masayang content ‘tas may natutuwa rin doon.”

But that’s not all of her plans. Despite her foray into Forestry, Charuth’s original career choice was to go into business. “Noong time po ng pandemic, may family business kami. Gusto ko lang noon maging tagapagmana,” she says, laughing, “Gusto ko lang maging dynasty kami ng negosyo.” It’s still kind of true today: behind the scenes, she owns three branches of Pedal Cafe, and is cooking up another business venture. 

She’s expanding her comedy career, too: she’s learning how to be a comedy writer. “Super love ko [‘yung Pencilbox] and inaaral ko ngayon maging writer-actor doon. Actor lang ako, but now sumasali na ako sa mga brainstorming sessions and nagta-try na akong mag-pitch ng mga ideas para ma-turn to sketch and ma-post. Gusto kong mag-evolve sa Pencilbox na hindi lang ako nag-a-act. Dapat writer-actor din.”

She’s learning from her idols–and what a boon it is that some of them also happen to already be her mentors in the Pencilbox fold. “Ang saya na natuturuan na ako ni Ate Donna Cariaga. Si Ate Charisse Solomon pag sa mga skits and sketches, kasi yun ang ginagawa niya sa Bubble Gang din. Then sa stand-up, gusto kong humor yung kay James Caraan. And dark humor naman kay JP Aguilera.”

Does she have plans to do stand-up? “Hindi pa ako tatayo dyan pero kung matuto ako sa pagsusulat sa Pencilbox, why not? Pero grabe, ibang halimaw din yung stand up world, so let’s see.”

The world is Charuth’s oyster, and between being the on-screen funny girl, learning to be a comedy writer, and starting businesses, she has accomplished a lot. Many would say she caught a lucky break, and she did, but it’s not the kind you need to win the lottery. Charuth’s luck is proverbially what happens when preparation meets opportunity, and she shows no signs of slowing down as she continues to upskill, observe, and prepare for what will definitely be bigger and better breaks–in comedy, in business, in life.

Follow Charuth on Tiktok, Instagram, Facebook, and Youtube.

Mining their deep baul of pop culture knowledge and a trust level that could only come from two people who’s been around each other’s brand of humor for a good while, improv masters Macoy Dubs and Baus Rufo gave us laugh fest after laugh fest in 2025 and a podcast that outshadowed all podcasts. And their unscripted back and forths are still up and running, finding extra ammunition with the addition of guest friends like funny girl Joy Barcoma and relentless komikera Tuesday Vargas. —by Jerome Gomez

Follow them on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook. Listen to their podcast on Youtube, Apple and Spotify.
Also Read: Year of the Dog... show: How the Dog Show Divas Became 2025's Breakout Podcast

Everybody loves Davao Conyo, the shy, introverted (although you wouldn’t guess it from his gags) content creator who once told Spot that “Between aircon and kanal, I would say that my humor is room temperature.” And that’s likely part of the formula why Phillip Hernandez' comedy remains the most palatable, relatable, and successful. It cuts across classes, gender preferences, and age brackets. But it’s the sheer contagious joy he injects in his material and in performing it that keeps us—and his steady stream of advertisers—coming back for more. —by Jerome Gomez

Follow them on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook.
Also Read: Davao Conyo: Portrait of an Introvert As Internet Star

Speaking of aircon humor, here’s its leading proponent: the former Atenista and Lasallista who gave malls in Manila their own individual persona, and created a veritable GC for them while he’s at it. The result is a well-loved series whose most recent installment announced the addition of Greenhills Mall into the group chat, sparking raised eyebrows from Shangri-la Plaza because, well, GH is “not really a mall like us.” It’s a tribute to every Manilenyo’s favorite third space, and a testament to the wild, conyo-inflected imagination of the artist-writer-performer named Raco Ruiz. —by Jerome Gomez

Follow Raco on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook.

Don’t be duped by Ichan Remigio’s boyish looks, the guy dispenses advice that’s way beyond his years, if a little illegal. Hwe hwe. His unconventional wisdom has so far resulted in two widely viewed posts—one has 16M views and is about how to get the most out of our limited years here on earth (“kasi sa Pilipinas may pag-asenso kung marunong kang umabuso”), and the other 12.4 million views and about why we need to stay out of pedestrian lanes “kung gusto mong mas mataas makuha mo kung masagasaan ka.” —by Jerome Gomez

Follow Ichan on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook.

Who knew the nurse station can be the source of high drama—and comedy? Hierarchy and seniority drive the hospital room shenanigans Filipino UK nurse John Steven Soriano thinks up for his TikTok account Nurse Even, but it’s the hysterics that bring in the hilarity. His current series, which stars new hire Princess, the tenured Ma’am Nicole, and their doctor bosses—all played by Soriano—offer a raw, brutally honest portrait of the stressful lives of medical workers the way The Pitt can only dream of accomplishing. Eme! —by Jerome Gomez

Follow them on Tiktok and Facebook.

Tropa humor straight from the downstairs inuman, from one of the best content creators that came out of the pandemic. Pitsilog’s comedy is raw and unapologetic in its depiction of utol-to-utol scenarios left out of Pinoy action films, or Coco Martin teleseryes. Check out the gag about his father-in-law who still can’t accept him as part of the family, or him finally sending a breakup text to someone he’s only known online. That the account remains productive is a miracle, and keeps TikTok the surprising, unpredictable galaxy we don’t mind revisiting every night before bedtime. —by Jerome Gomez

Follow them on Tiktok, Instagram and Facebook.

Antolin’s sketches often look meticulously put together. Relatable scenarios dressed up in the best editing, sound effects, the works. Sometimes there's not even a punchline, but it’s really Chris’ attention to detail that gets you watching, and his commitment to his characters—the nagger nanay, the ‘main character’ classmate, the Purokchella backup dancer—that gets you LOL-ing in the middle of a packed train at rush hour or in the silence of your room in the dead of night. “Famous Lines ni Mama” is now a Chris classic, and his annual 19th century-style parody of that viral “Malaya Ka Na” video is an Independence Day favorite.

Follow Christian on TikTok, Facebook, and Instagram.

If there is anyone who could elevate the local “Marites,” it’s Justine Luzares. It’s impossible to have missed the Marités reels–Justine dressed in a soft pink robe, hair wrapped in a white towel, with a bearing that could put anyone from Downton Abbey and Bridgerton’s Mayfair to shame. He also puts on the most convincing British accent for Marités, which puts the character over the top as he turns the local Marites image on its head. “I just got back from a binyagan. Needless to say I gatecrashed,” Marités reports, and gushes about the baby. The food doesn’t pass her standards, though: “Oh dear god, the lumpia. It was so shriveled and pale I thought it was kikyam!”

Justine’s reels are built on his stellar talent for accents, changing from Visayan to American English to British English and even kanto-style Filipino at a drop of a hat. His ability to transform into his different characters allows viewers to immerse themselves in his little scenarios. His Jenna and Dave series, featuring two original characters who are in an all-too-familiar situationship, sent Tiktok into a frenzy, but even as fans await the next Jenna and Dave installment, Justine continues to create relatable comedy content enriched with his knack for accents and character acting. — by Camille Georgia Uy

Follow Justine Luzares on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Panginoon ng Kababawan may translate to “lord of shallowness,” but there’s nothing shallow about the wordplay that’s usually featured on his videos. His skits feature a wide breadth of pop culture references, but one thing remains consistent: the punchlines are always a pun–and the funniest ones are bilingual, plays on Filipino words and their English translations and vice versa. In one video, he asks, “Anong pagkain ang mabilis?” “It’s fast food or sopas,” was the annoyed answer from his conversation partner (which also happens to be himself). “Hindi, quick-quick!” (As in kwek-kwek). It’s also hard not to laugh at his short reels, because it gets a little meta at the end: his characters react to their own jokes. Sometimes they laugh, sometimes they get annoyed (just as we might when we hear corny dad jokes), but all the time they invite you to laugh with him.

By day, Adam Domingo is a medica physicist–he treats cancer patients with radiation therapy. But online, he’s Panginoon ng Kababawan, and he treats the rest of us with silly puns and funny skits delivered with impeccably timed punchlines. — by Camille Georgia Uy

Follow Panginoon ng Kababawan on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Lottie Bie shot to virality with her common sense teacher skits. In them, she pretends to be the “common sense teacher,” fielding seemingly innocent questions from students with nonsensical answers. The rapid-fire Q&A doesn’t allow you to take a break from laughing. “Inuuod po ba ang uod pag namatay?” “Uod naman, bakit hindi? Next question.” 

She’s also known for her punchy skits that are set in absurd worlds, like her Multiverse reality problems series that features an uber rich main character whose problems stem from having too much money. By the end of the 30-second reel, her character is having a breakdown because her child got a scholarship: “Kaya nga tayo nagbabayad ng tuition para maubos yung pera natin–tas scholarship pa?”

Recently, Lottie Bie entered a new era in her personal life–motherhood. Her announcement was a twofer, as she also revealed that she has been married for most of her online career. “I want a private life, not a secret life,” she shares with SPOT.ph, and the decision to reveal her marital status and daughter to the world was a deliberate one. These days, Lottie’s comedy is still as funny as ever–with a sprinkling of baby-themed content that comes from her being a mom. — by Camille Georgia Uy

Follow Lottie Bie on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.
Also read: Mom's the Word: Lottie Bie on Motherhood and Boundaries in the Age of Tiktok

It’s the nostalgia for simpler days that put Spencer Serafica on the map–along with his spot-on characterizations of familiar childhood tropes: the exasperated nanay, the strict tita, your ne’er-do-well best friends and even your childhood crush. Add to that the juxtaposition between his serious commitment to his characters and his low-budget costumes (we say this with love) and you’ve got a recipe for laughing and missing the good ol’ days at the same time. But it’s not just that; his Carl series captures the more modern cringe moments of filming Tiktok trends only to be caught in a very compromising position by a Tita who will never understand, and he also does impeccably timed stitches with existing reels,  adding his own super relatable Filipino humor–it’s very in line with his brand of comedy, where Spencer turns low-budget costumes and settings into very kanal-coded comedy gold. — by Camille Georgia Uy

Follow Xspencer on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Warren Daniel Osinaga—or Poca, as the internet knows him—has built a career out of turning our most unfiltered thoughts into comedic, shareable short videos. He's so good at capturing the stark difference in the energy of the Filipino when its petsa de peligro versus when suweldo has just been credited to the payroll account. Ex: "Ah, miss, pa-order nga po ako," Poca says to a drive-thru window. When asked what he'd like to order, his answer is immediate: "Lahat.” Pause. “Kaya ko eh." It’s this kind of relatable, exaggerated humor that gave him hundreds of thousands to now millions of followers. Beyond content creation, he's also started acting, appearing in films like That Kind of Love and Meg & Ryan, even snagging a role in the SB19 music video for their song "Visa." —by Bea Faicol

Follow Poca on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Based in Lapu-Lapu City, Zeke Abella is hard to miss on TikTok, where he has built a following of more than 2.8 million. His best-known bits often start with him deliberately misunderstanding English words, then committing to the most ridiculous interpretation possible. In Zeke’s world, “etc.” becomes “is it true?” and “close” becomes “selos.” We don’t know how it got to that, either. He also really likes crying in front of the camera for some reason, whether he’s singing emotional lyrics or spiraling over hypothetical situations. But scroll past the chaos and you’ll find a different side of him. Lesser known is the fact is that Zeke is also an R&B singer-songwriter, with songs like “Only One” and “Baggages” showing a softer, more serious side to him. The range makes sense: you don’t get to be dramatic on TikTok without having at least a little artist in you. —by Micah Guiao

Follow Zeke Abella on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Kim Burghly is the living, breathing definition of “baliw,” but we mean that as a compliment. She’ll say the kind of unfiltered thoughts most people would never say out loud, then reenact them to absurd extremes with the confidence of someone who has never felt shame in her life. 

That is probably why plenty of them have reached millions of views. One day she is calling out Victoria’s Secret for not being inclusive enough to include Filipino-style panties with flowers; the next, she is calling a hypothetical cheating incident a “dream come true” because she finally gets to live out her dramatic fantasies. Offline, Kim is a young Cebu-based entrepreneurial student whose real name is Eden Ybanez. —by Micah Guiao

Follow Kim Burghly on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Audience participation can be dangerous on Thalia Perico’s side of TikTok. Ask her a question, and chances are she will find a way to answer in the most pilosopo way possible, the kind that will earn you a hard batok from friends. In one video, someone asks, “Anong gagawin if miss na siya?” to which Thalia replies, “Dati ba siyang mister? Anong concern natin dito?” Her videos are easy to binge, because the clip is over before you can even question what she says. So you just scroll to the next one. Before you know it, you’re watching her lecture followers about how she should be the one to decide when she gets to poop. With nearly a million followers on TikTok, it’s clear people are willing to follow wherever Thalia’s thought process goes.—by Micah Guiao

Follow Thalia Perico on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

Sophie Lua doesn’t look like she’s about to make a joke, which is probably why her videos catch you off guard. She speaks in a flat, almost bored tone, then says something that makes it clear she is a comedian at heart. In one of her latest videos, Sophie joins the trend of saying words and phrases in different emotions, and for reasons only she can fully explain, she chooses to say “tiktilaok” in the tones of “Alabang” and “Batangas.” Aside from her comedy bits, Sophie likes to vlog her thoughts. Maybe too much. She is particularly fond of making highly specific lists, from “things I find very chic” to “things I find prisoncore.” The categories are random, but the observations are surprisingly sharp. We don’t know about you but there’s something so irresistible about watching someone assign taste levels to everyday objects, then declare that “egg” and “nose” are things she doesn’t find very chic. Why? They are not a chick and cheek. We regret to inform you that the logic is sound. —by Micah Guiao

Follow Sophie Lua on Tiktok and Instagram.

BAET is the main reason oranges are called Sharmaine these days and flies called Vanessa. This viral TikTok content creator likes to portray inanimate objects, animals, and even creatures on social media, hilariously weaving Filipino cultural memes and superstitions into his daily comedy skits. Only those who grew up in the Philippines will find Baet’s skits absolutely relatable, witty, and funny. Behind the filter, Baet is known as Jericho, a native of Daet, Camarines Norte, who once made the trip to Manila to get some work experience to help him get a job abroad. But life has its own plans, and Baet became a full-time content creator. —by Louise Lizan

Follow Sophie Prime on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

If you aren’t chronically online, you won’t really get most of what Sophie Prime’s videos are saying. But not to worry: Sophie has already created a glossary of all the pop and street culture memes and references that she uses to keep you up to date. Sophie Prime is the alter ego of Willard Alarcon who is also behind Sophie's hit podcast “Dagok Time,” where Sophie recounts daily Pinoy struggles, dishes raw, unfiltered confessions, discusses pop culture moments, and everything in between. It all happens Monday to Friday at 10 p.m. —by Louise Lizan

Follow Sophie Prime on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

The best ads are the brainchild of a whole team, and Japh is a team of many in one—for his agency life skits, at least. He went viral for reenacting how the many moving parts of a production would act to advertise a glass of water and he's been on a roll ever since. His tagline goes: "ahensya by day, ahensya by night also," which is likely just his cheeky way of admitting how ad agency concerns have taken over his life. He approaches agency shenanigans with a playful reverence and relatable punchlines which bring his industry peers to tears—be it from trauma or joy. All that while entertaining audiences who might not know what "ahensya life" is like but deserve a good laugh anyway. After all, that is what the customers deserve! —by Clara Rosales

Follow Buyo on Tiktok and Instagram.

There are two things Filipinos love: the girls of Sexbomb and a good K-Pop performance. Buyo brings us both. In the confines of his bedroom in South Korea, Buyo shows us what it would be like if an idol had to sing “Bakit Papa?” in Korean with full choreography, live vocals, and shortness of breath. But make no mistake, his hybrid P-Pop/K-Pop performances are not what originally brought the proverbial house down. His Korean boss—or Pujang-nim, which is Korean for manager—is well-aware of his antics, but nothing could have prepared him for Buyo whipping out a “Stop the car, Pujang-nim!”. When not busting a move and being a lovable headache to his boss, Buyo does a fantastic job of keeping in touch with home by exposing his co-workers to Filipino humor, and explaining it to them. Imagine explaining the renaming of oranges to Sharmaine to a Korean person. Buyo doesn’t have to imagine; that’s his reality. —by Clara Rosales

Follow Buyo on Tiktok and Instagram.

If you’ve scrolled around for long enough past 11 p.m., Ansis Sy and his Chinoy Auntie persona are no stranger to your feed. “It’s not quite drag, but it’s a character that feels easy to put on,” he shared in conversation with SPOT. From demonstrating the nuances of Chinese-Filipino family culture to parodies of The Real Housewives intros, Ansis is a growing presence in the hosting and improv circles while maintaining a slightly less colorful career as a virtual assistant. We personally can’t stop quoting his reel on The Real Housewives of Alabang: “I’m from Woodrose, my husband’s from Southridge—it’s a match made in PAREF.” —by Michiko Manalang

Follow Joyce Glorioso on Tiktok, Instagram, and Facebook.

We can’t leave out the Banana Queen—especially not when she’s popping up in fiestas, minor pageants, game shows, and the occasional film, just as her digital footprint seems to have always predicted. Joyce Glorioso’s sense of physical comedy put her on everybody’s FYP; she seemed to be an overnight pandemic success with her straight-faced TikTok dances, which soon evolved into glittering DIY drag. Although not much is known about her life before fame, she stays true to what she finds funny and inspiring. —by Michiko Manalang

Follow Joyce Glorioso on Tiktok and Instagram.