AltF originals

A paused editorial preview that explains the sourcing and publishing controls required before stories return.

A timer that counts how long you manage to do nothing at all. Move the mouse, press a key, or scroll and it starts again from zero.

One sincere, specific compliment per click, written by people rather than generated. For days that have not gone well.

Short, sourced facts arranged so one leads into the next. Built for the specific pleasure of learning something you can repeat.

The full arcade: dozens of browser games sorted by genre, all playable immediately with nothing to install.

A sheet of bubble wrap that never runs out. Pop with a click or drag across a row, and it refills the moment you finish.

Generate a fake newspaper clipping, a talking animation or a ransom note. The 2005 internet, rebuilt so it still works.

Build a convincing fake post, chat or notification for a joke or a mockup. Watermarked so nobody mistakes it for the real thing.

Type a surname and get where it came from, what it originally meant and where in the world it still clusters.

Draw a circle with one unbroken stroke and get scored on how round it actually was. Nobody beats 97% on a trackpad.

Proper trait questionnaires with the scoring shown, rather than a quiz that decides you are a golden retriever.

Full-screen fake terminals, fake updates and fake system alerts. Harmless, closeable with Escape, and very funny on a colleague's screen.

Converts your scrolling into real distance and tells you what you have just passed — a giraffe, the Eiffel Tower, low Earth orbit.

An infinite canvas for rough diagrams and flows. Opens instantly with nothing to configure and no file to save first.

Long-form serialised fiction with a reader built for actually reading — chapter memory, no pop-ups, no interruptions.

One large red button and a clear instruction not to press it. It gets increasingly personal about the fact that you keep pressing it.

Flick the switch on. A small hand reaches out and turns it off again. That is the entire website and it is somehow enough.

Type anything at all and watch it drift upward and dissolve. Nothing is stored, nothing is sent, nothing can be recovered.