Gumyaria was a sad, sad place. Full of Gumyarian poets who had not wriggled the bon-bon-boofa in decades. Full of girth, but dearth of mirth. Whole towns devoted all of their time devising ways to escape Gumyaria. Even the Doobulinger missionaries planted a do-not-visit beacon to warn off fools who read in outdated field guides about the great bon-bon-boofa wriggling orgies held there on annual quarter-moon-and-a-half festivals. Alas, those were sodden, wrung-out dreams of of the past.
But for its misery, Gumyaria had one wonderous thing that nobody else did, one thing that did not exist anywhere else on their joy forsaken planet. The one thing that kept all those unemployed Gumyarian poets sane. An internet connection.