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Decades of adverts preserved exactly as broadcast, including the jingles you will regret having remembered.

Viral-content parody taken well past the point of sense, including quizzes that insult you for finishing them.

Sixty seconds to forge the Mona Lisa with a mouse, then a pixel-by-pixel score telling you exactly how badly it went.

Curated stumble button that sends you somewhere good rather than somewhere random, with categories if you are feeling fussy.

NASA ephemeris data, brutal one-line notifications and a design language everyone copied. Astrology delivered entirely deadpan.

Mash any keys and immaculate code appears on screen at speed. Enormously convincing to anyone standing more than a metre away.

Click the cookie, buy grandmas, buy portals, accidentally summon something. The game that turned incrementals into a genre.

Chrome, flames and bevelled gradients — the 2003 logo generator, still online and still producing exactly that.

Nest and feeder cams run by the Cornell Lab, with ornithologists in the chat explaining what the bird is doing and why it matters.

One button that adds unicorns and rainbows to any web page, solving a problem that has never once been reported.

Upload any file and receive a genuinely corrupted version back. Built for missing deadlines, used mostly for art.

The same premise with different flavours of damage — choose the format and how thoroughly you want it ruined.

Blind items published daily since 2006, unverifiable by design, and treated as scripture by a very large comment section.

The tidied-up archive of internet horror folklore, from Slender Man to the stories a school friend swore blind were true.

Frogger with better manners: hop a chicken across roads, rivers and railway lines until the inevitable lorry.

Where every cruise ship in the world currently is, with deck plans and itineraries attached, for reasons entirely your own.

Sugar-coated filler text for wireframes, with sliders for exactly how sweet and how long the nonsense should be.

Crude four-panel strips with a mean streak, running since 2005 and still finding fresh ways to end badly.

The animator who taught the internet to be afraid of cows, with every looping nightmare he has made collected in one place.

Long, carefully researched articles on forgotten disasters, obsessives and near misses from history.

Screenshots of manipulative interfaces caught in the wild, named and dissected. Grimly entertaining reading.

A weekly newsletter of unusual public datasets, with an archive of thousands you had no idea were collected.

Google's hallucinating network turned into a service, still perfectly capable of putting dog faces into absolutely everything.

German satirical news delivered with a completely straight face, plus a weekly video bulletin, running since 2008.

Alarming research site about a chemical found in tumours, acid rain and every reservoir on earth. The chemical is water.

The same six panels of clip-art dinosaurs every day since 2003, with entirely different words in them each time.

Dithering aimed squarely at the chunky, ugly end of the spectrum, with palettes lifted from old hardware.

Crowdsourced content warnings covering a hundred-odd specific triggers, so you can check beforehand rather than find out during.

Mine dogecoin with a shiba inu until you can afford to buy the moon. The year 2014, preserved in fully playable form.

A 1996 US presidential campaign website, still up, still exactly as it was. An accidental museum of early political web design.

An interface that forbids clicking entirely and makes you navigate by hovering, which is far stranger than it sounds.

Pixel canvas designed for thumbs first, fed by a huge stream of daily themed drawings from a mostly Japanese community.

Single-player browser RPG from the AdventureQuest studio, with a long story campaign and jokes aimed squarely at 2007.

Telephone played with drawings: describe a picture, draw a description, and watch the chain derail over twelve steps.

Move the mouse and flowers, mushrooms and grass sprout underneath it while a music box plays. No tools, no undo, no point.

Draw and guess with a room code, or play solo against the clock on the evenings when nobody answers the group chat.

Balance a truck over obstacle courses clearly designed by somebody who has never driven anything at all.

Gamified courses in dozens of languages, plus the guilt engine keeping most people's streaks technically alive.

The 2001 humour portal that somehow still updates, with the same mix of clips, pictures and questionable taste.

Drag left and right to slap a man in the face with an eel, at whatever speed the day seems to call for.

A museum of Google easter eggs that Google removed — gravity, the barrel roll, the mirrored search — all restored and working.

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

Enormous archive of emoji strings, kaomoji and text arrangements, searchable by whatever you are trying to say.

Every Google emoji mashup, searchable — pick two and get the official illustrated hybrid back as a PNG.

Upload a photograph and it rebuilds the entire thing out of emoji, colour-matched one tile at a time.

Shows you an emoji and starts a timer while you run round the room pointing your phone camera at the real object.

Two emoji in, one hybrid out, with a randomiser for when you cannot decide which pairing to ruin next.

An ASCII horse whose legs continue for as long as you are willing to keep scrolling, which is longer than you think.