Good on a phone

Fast three-a-side football with sliding tackles and a World Cup bracket you can win inside a tea break.

Clean solitaire collection with hints, statistics and daily challenges spread across a dozen different variants.

Daily solitaire challenges dealt from guaranteed-winnable shuffles, with a leaderboard for people who want the streak.

Klondike that loads in under a second, with nothing on the page except green baize and the cards.

Listener-funded, advert-free channels out of San Francisco, Drone Zone and Groove Salad among them, going since the dial-up era.

Grid sequencer with a marimba and a drum kit, tuned so that anything you tap sounds passable, then shared as a link.

Rule a small kingdom by answering yes or no to whoever walks through the door, then watch the consequences quietly pile up.

Ride a lift from the ground to geostationary orbit, passing every layer of atmosphere and satellite on the way.

The original film's promotional site, left online untouched for nearly thirty years and preserved when the sequel arrived.

Solar flares, sunspot counts and geomagnetic storm levels in real time, plus the aurora forecast that decides whether tonight is worth the drive.

Seven letters, one compulsory centre letter, and the long climb from Solid to Genius. Ruins mornings extremely productively.

A hundred billion dollars and a shopping list running from Big Macs to aircraft carriers, and it is harder to spend than you expect.

Hundreds of thousands of user-made timed quizzes: name every element, every country, every Friends character. The genre's warehouse.

NASA's tracker for when the space station is visible from where you live, with sighting alerts by email.

Everyone knows the location except the spy, who has to bluff through the questioning without ever revealing they have no idea.

A daily letter grid with dozens of words buried in it, plus a bonus list that runs on far longer than anyone expects.

Constructive journalism collected from other outlets into one free feed, so somebody else does all the sifting.

Public domain classics reset properly — typography fixed, typos corrected, covers designed — and then given away.

Curated collections around specific research subjects, preserved because a university decided they would matter later.

Ask a sports question in plain English and get the actual numbers back with a chart. Ends pub arguments in about four seconds.

The planetarium in a browser tab — set your location and it shows exactly what is above you right now.

Swing a stick figure between grapple points using one button, then trust momentum to carry the mistake.

An idle game that keeps buying you more stimulation until the page is a lo-fi stream, a podcast and a fidget spinner at once.

Categories under a random letter and a timer: name a country, a food and an animal starting with M, then hit stop before anyone else.

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

A word search with a theme you have to deduce first, and one spangram threading corner to corner through the grid.

Gag gift shop selling the same reliable nonsense since the dot-com boom, on a layout that has aged in real time.

The endless runner that ate mobile gaming, in a browser tab with the trains, the hoverboards and the shouting guard intact.

Clean daily sudoku across five difficulties, with a notes mode that behaves the way a pencil is supposed to.

Drop fruit into a box, merge matching pairs and watch the pile creep towards the line. Physics does the rest of the work.

Good news, funny pictures and a daily dose of animals, assembled with no interest whatsoever in what is trending.

Tick off what is genuinely in your cupboards and it ranks the recipes you can make right now, with nothing missing.

Breed meat, then drones, then queens, then things with far too many legs. The exponential curve is the entire narrative.

World atlas of traditional dishes and the specific places that still make them properly. Endless, and reliably makes you hungry.

Name something you liked and it returns things with the same texture, spanning films, books, music and games at once.

A collaborative database of example sentences translated across languages, better than any dictionary for context.

Non-commercial web search indexing only pages carrying no ads or trackers at all. A very small and very different internet.

Sprint away from a large monkey along a crumbling temple path, dying at the same badly signposted corner every time.

The other GIF keyboard, with better tagging for reaction clips and a sticker library your phone already quietly uses.

Graded summaries of the terms you agreed to without reading, with the specific alarming clause quoted. Volunteer-run since 2012.

Hundreds of players carve up a real world map using one attack slider. Diplomacy emerges in the chat within ninety seconds.

The official browser Tetris, marathon mode included, so you can settle the argument about whether you are still any good.

One click copies the Lenny face, the shrug or the look of disapproval to your clipboard, correctly escaped.

Type a word, pick from several hundred FIGlet fonts, and get the enormous ASCII banner your terminal deserves.

Everything people typed at each other on bulletin board systems before the web existed, preserved as plain text and left open.

An air horn in a browser tab, installable offline, built by Google engineers as a demo and adopted as a weapon.

A personality test that assigns you one of forty-odd animals, with write-ups considerably sharper than the premise deserves.

Daily edit of objects, gear and short videos picked by somebody with taste and no obvious interest in sponsorship.