Mood
Reliable laughs, no setup required.
252 sites · page 2 of 6
Telephone played with drawings: describe a picture, draw a description, and watch the chain derail over twelve steps.
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.
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.
Twenty-five years of accidentally poetic English on packaging and signage, photographed across East Asia.
Found VHS footage cut into collages by a collective that also owns most of the world's remaining copies of Jerry Maguire.
Design a creature from joints and muscles, then watch a genetic algorithm spend hundreds of generations teaching it to limp.
Philosophers dropped into absurd situations, with an explanatory footnote in case you skipped that seminar.
Full-screen fake update screens for every operating system, including the blue one, with a bar that never finishes.
Accurately drawn birds swearing at each other about territory, mating and the general indignity of being a bird.
Build a machine from wheels and rods to push a ball into a zone, and accept that it will topple over the first nine times.
A voice shouts COW louder as your cursor gets closer to an invisible cow, and that is the entire game.
British gift shop with a taste for the daft and mildly rude, plus the occasional genuinely good bit of kit hidden among it.
Home-video horrors rescued from charity shops and skips, curated by two men with an unhealthy commitment to the format.
Opens as a dismal educational maths game about a frog eating flies, and then keeps going somewhere else entirely. Say nothing more.
A shelf of room-code party games — spy, drawing, word association, trivia — all free, all in one place, none needing an app.
The full arcade — hundreds of browser games sorted by type, all playable immediately with nothing to install.
Broken telephone with drawings: a sentence becomes a picture becomes a sentence, and the album at the end is the whole payoff.
Twenty-odd fake hacking interfaces — agency mainframes, terminals, satellite maps — with buttons that fill progress bars.
A genetic algorithm evolves two-dimensional cars across rough terrain while you watch generations fail forward.
A search engine for animated GIFs recovered from GeoCities. Type any word and receive several spinning versions of it.
The GIF search engine everything else plugs into, still the fastest route to the exact reaction you have in mind.
The same cruelty as QWOP, applied to climbing: every handhold is a different letter key and you have to hold several at once.
Red-carpet criticism written with real fashion knowledge and jokes aimed at the outfit rather than the person in it.
Drive a golf ball absurd distances, upgrade the swing, repeat until the ball is leaving the atmosphere entirely.
Family Fortunes played against Google autocomplete, which turns out to be a bleaker and much funnier opponent than a studio audience.
Draw a horse, then watch it gallop off to join the herd of terrible horses drawn by everybody else.
Comic-strip teardowns of real product decisions, each one explaining the psychology behind why it did or did not work.
The official register of the longest, fastest and most improbable things people have done entirely on purpose.
Mash any keys and perfectly formatted code appears character by character, exactly as in every hacking scene ever filmed.
Ragdoll obstacle courses in which the dad on the bicycle loses limbs to almost anything he touches, across millions of user levels.
One word of reassurance about the Large Hadron Collider, maintained since 2008 and still, reassuringly, saying no.
Shoot the alien whose colour matches the hex code shown. Learning to read hex by sight is an accidental side effect.
Placeholder text made of artisanal nonsense, optionally cut with real Latin for clients who prefer not to notice.
Allie Brosh's illustrated essays, including the two on depression that remain the best thing written about it.
The lolcat archive that taught the internet its first grammar, still posting captioned animals two decades later.
Spot the serif among the sans-serifs before the timer runs out. Ten seconds long and disproportionately stressful.
A map of the solar system drawn to true scale, meaning most of your scrolling is spent crossing absolutely nothing.
Mocks up a screenshot of a conversation that never happened, for jokes and design mock-ups rather than anything serious.
One button, one detour. Press it as often as you like.