SOMEONE BUILT WORDLE BUT FOR MINI GOLF AND IT IS QUIETLY BECOMING MY FAVORITE MORNING RITUAL
it's called https://t.co/uNM5Of4MOd.
you open the tab and there is one mini golf hole. that's the whole game. one new hole every midnight pacific. same hole for everyone in the world. your first finish counts.
you click the ball, drag back like a slingshot, let go. the further you pull, the harder you hit.
today's hole is called "Up and around." it's an S-shaped tropical island floating in dark teal water, with cross-barriers and one little wooden ramp that i ricocheted off three times in a row. par 6.
at the top of the screen, a live ticker scrolls past in real time:
> someone holed 6/6 · par
> someone holed 5/6 · birdie
> someone holed 11/6 · +5
real strangers are putting on the same hole as you. you can see the ghost rings of where their balls travelled, in cyan and purple and pink.
when you finish, you get a wordle-style share card. emoji result. takes one tap to drop into a group chat.
PC Gamer just wrote a whole love letter to it. the writer admits they scored a 20 on a par 12. they were thrilled.
the developer goes by https://t.co/0LJJsQnIeY. the 3D models are from Kenney, a guy who has been releasing free CC0 game assets for over a decade.
no signup. no account. no tracking. your streak lives in your browser. if you clear your cookies, the streak dies with them.
the about page says it in one sentence: "Same hole for everyone, new one at midnight Pacific, and your first finish is your score. That's the whole game."
we are 35 days into the project and the calendar archive lets you play every single previous hole.
i don't know why this is so satisfying. i just know i was supposed to be writing this post and i kept reopening the tab.
the internet is healing.
Rashee Rice -
1. Elusiveness to avoid contact with trash can
2. Sharp cutting around the doorways
3. Acceleration down the sidewalk
Barring a return to jail, I think we have ourselves a top 5 WR returning to the field, fellas!
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
Foreshadowing.
The shadow of downtown KC casts on to high level clouds above the K. One of the coolest pictures I think I’ve gotten lucky enough to take at the K. Especially with where we will be moving to. So cool.