Mood
Reliable laughs, no setup required.
252 sites · page 5 of 6
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.
Gag gift shop selling the same reliable nonsense since the dot-com boom, on a layout that has aged in real time.
Good news, funny pictures and a daily dose of animals, assembled with no interest whatsoever in what is trending.
The other GIF keyboard, with better tagging for reaction clips and a sticker library your phone already quietly uses.
One click copies the Lenny face, the shrug or the look of disapproval to your clipboard, correctly escaped.
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.
Spawns browser windows that dance around the screen and refuse to sit still, harmless but genuinely infuriating.
Satire from a conservative and Christian angle, useful mainly as a read on what the other newsroom finds absurd.
Canadian satire that assumes you follow Canadian politics, and rewards you handsomely if you happen to.
Australia's oldest newspaper, filed from a town with no remaining population, covering the nation with dead-eyed accuracy.
One button, escalating nonsense, and no way onward except pressing it again. Works on a phone, which is the danger.
One large red button and a clear instruction not to press it. It gets increasingly personal about the fact that you keep pressing it.
The Australian team that built a career on television stunts, still publishing headlines that get them into trouble.
British satire in short bitter columns, mostly concerning the middle classes and the people who irritate them.
One of the first things the internet ever collectively lost its mind over, and it is still rows of dancing rodents and one loop.
Punk and hardcore scene satire, written by people who clearly still go to shows and still resent everyone there.
Two Google search terms, one question: which one gets searched more? Your instincts are far worse than you think they are.
Multiple-choice questions where the correct answer is a pun, a trick or an outright lie, and three wrong ones end the whole run.
One cat looking at a monitor showing a cat looking at a monitor, several thousand cats deep and still accepting submissions.
Scroll the length of an absurdly elongated shiba inu, with checkpoints and a leaderboard for the truly committed.
Long-form comics about grammar, cats, running and grief, from the man who also invented Exploding Kittens.
The original fake newspaper, whose headlines get quoted as fact often enough to sustain a small correction industry.
A stick-figure Dungeons and Dragons party in a story that turned genuinely epic somewhere around strip four hundred.
Beautifully drawn strips that set up a sweet premise and then take it somewhere very dark in the final panel.
Australian satire in short sharp headlines, which is roughly the national attention span for domestic politics.
A team counted every squirrel in Central Park and published the data, the maps and a full illustrated report on the findings.
Cecil Adams' archive of exhaustively answered daft questions, invented decades before you could just ask the internet.
Flick the switch on. A small hand reaches out and turns it off again. That is the entire website and it is somehow enough.
One button, one random pointless website, no explanation offered or needed. The site that turned this whole genre into a genre.
Daily gift catalogue for things nobody needs, and the reason several of your friends own a novelty tap they never use.
Invented dictionary entries complete with etymology and a usage example, none of them real words. Several of them deserve to be.
Bounces a sentence between English and Japanese until the two versions agree, which they rarely do politely.
A taxonomy of every storytelling device ever used, cross-linked so densely that leaving takes actual discipline.
Type words and each letter becomes a drum hit, so your own name comes out as a loop you will struggle to stop playing.
Uno against bots or friends, with the draw-four arguments fully intact and no cards to lose under the sofa.
Flips your sentence using Unicode lookalikes, so it survives a paste into anywhere that accepts plain text.
Where teenagers make the quizzes: which sad indie song are you, which Greek deity would pity you. Anyone can build one in minutes.
A small publisher of deliberately pointless web projects, including several gag sites you have probably been sent.
Curiously awesome products sold through absurd demonstration videos, most of which are more entertaining than the item itself.
Well over a hundred thousand scanned advertisements sorted by decade and subject. A very direct record of what people were told to want.
Home of a long list of absurd browser games and quizzes, several of which have quietly consumed entire office afternoons.
New York Magazine's pop-culture desk, where the recaps and power rankings are better written than the shows deserve.
Very long illustrated essays on artificial intelligence, procrastination and the Fermi paradox, drawn in deliberately bad stick figures.
Four-panel strips whose punchline usually involves death, drawn by two Germans with impeccable comic timing.
Irish satire with no interest in restraint, regularly mistaken for real reporting by people who should know better.
Guess where a teammate placed a concept on a spectrum between two extremes. The most reliable argument-starter on this list.
One button, one detour. Press it as often as you like.