Mood
Reliable laughs, no setup required.
252 sites · page 1 of 6
Collection of period-correct cursor trails — rainbows, bubbles, snowflakes, ghosts — demoed live so you can wave the mouse about.
The meme feed that reposts everything eventually, sorted into channels so you can choose your particular poison.
Twenty-eight escalating trolley dilemmas that end somewhere very silly, each showing the percentage of people who agreed with you.
Janelle Shane feeds neural networks recipes, paint names and knitting patterns, then reports the wreckage with real affection.
Lists, quizzes and the sort of low-stakes internet reading that fills a break without requiring anything of you.
Genuine industrial surplus sold with the best product copy on the internet: lab glassware, small motors, and 400 unexplained springs.
Seattle's novelty institution: rubber chickens, emergency moustaches and an unreasonable number of items shaped like tinned meat.
Decades of ASCII drawings sorted by subject, from cats to warships, every one of them ready to copy and paste.
Thousands of educational films saved from the skip — driver safety, dating advice, duck and cover — digitised by one collector.
Two decades of other people's terrible family portraits, submitted willingly and captioned by the people in them.
Lorem ipsum made entirely of cured meats, for mock-ups where nobody was going to read the filler text anyway.
One-button basketball in which the players, the ball and the court are all changed at random between points, deliberately.
Community for adding glitter, sparkles and animated hearts to photographs, still busily active long after the trend died.
Drag four blobs up and down and they sing genuine four-part harmony, trained on real opera singers, always in key.
The cat plays whatever key you press, on bongos, a keyboard or a full drum kit. Peak internet, and still maintained.
Physics sumo where everybody is a circle, the only verb is shove, and the arena keeps getting smaller until someone falls off.
Endless listicles of art, design mishaps and comment-section drama, engineered to eat a lunch break whole.
The original boredom portal, still sorting thousands of time-wasters into categories with no discernible editorial filter.
People staple bread to trees and photograph it. There is no deeper explanation available and no sign of it stopping.
The write-draw-write chain game that predates the current crop, still running, still free and still producing pure nonsense.
Chuck banknotes into an open grave with the mouse, accompanied by an unreasonably committed soundtrack.
Plays the notification sounds of Slack, email and Teams on a loop so it sounds like somebody urgently needs you.
Cut-out cats rain down and bounce off the bottom of the screen, and you can grab one and fling it at the others.
A free endpoint that returns one cat fact per request, which is how every cat-facts prank bot ever built gets built.
Twenty years of forensic argument about how tall film stars really are, with photographic evidence and footwear analysis.
A chihuahua rotating to a dance track, which was apparently a complete website idea in 2013 and somehow still is.
The offline dinosaur from Chrome's error page, playable while you still have a perfectly good connection.
Parody religion with its own prophet, apocalypse date and merchandise, committed to the bit long enough that you stop being sure.
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.
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.
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.
Frogger with better manners: hop a chicken across roads, rivers and railway lines until the inevitable lorry.
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.
Screenshots of manipulative interfaces caught in the wild, named and dissected. Grimly entertaining reading.
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.
Mine dogecoin with a shiba inu until you can afford to buy the moon. The year 2014, preserved in fully playable form.
Single-player browser RPG from the AdventureQuest studio, with a long story campaign and jokes aimed squarely at 2007.
One button, one detour. Press it as often as you like.