The Day I Accidentally Became a Shitpost Legend

It was 2:47 AM when I made the worst decision of my online life. Sleepless, caffeinated beyond reason, and scrolling through my feed with the glazed eyes of someone who had lost all sense of time and dignity, I did it. I created the shitpost. Not just any shitpost—the kind that would haunt me, follow me, and somehow define an entire chapter of my internet existence.

The post itself was profoundly stupid. I had photoshopped a potato onto the body of a Renaissance painting, added the caption "me showing up to Monday like," and hit send before my rational brain could intervene. I expected nothing. Maybe three likes from my mom's various accounts. Instead, I woke up four hours later to 847 notifications, countless shares, and somehow—somehow—I had been turned into a meme template. People were using my potato renaissance man for everything from crypto market jokes to existential crisis declarations.

Here's what nobody tells you about creating an accidental viral shitpost: you become forever known as "potato guy." I'd spend weeks crafting thoughtful content about philosophy, technology, and the human condition. Ten likes. But that cursed potato? It got remixed, referenced, and reposted for months. My family started sending me potato-related gifts for holidays. My boss referenced it in a meeting. I had achieved immortality in the worst possible way.

Looking back now, I've made peace with it. That shitpost taught me something valuable about the internet and human nature: sometimes the things we create without thinking, the raw unfiltered moments of absurdity, connect with people more than our carefully curated masterpieces. We're all just potatoes in Renaissance clothing, showing up to Monday unprepared and slightly confused. And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's the point. Or maybe it's 2:47 AM again and I should just go to sleep.