Is this the saddest thing ever created by the internet?

Blarg was born in a misshapen lump of protopixels sometime in the mid-1990s, possibly during the frantic late night copulation of Microsoft Paint and "Animated GIFs for Dummies." Now a homeless teenager, Blarg spends his days wandering the wires of the World Wide Web, forever bouncing, eyes loosely connected to pixel-thin strings stapled to the back of his sign, trying desperately to speak with complicated fist gestures, as his hands have been sealed with glue and tucked into mime gloves for all eternity. He can speak but one day a year, when his only message, his only thought, coincides with the random "observed" whims of one nation's calendar. On that day, his eyes bulge a bit, his fists pump ever more insistently, and yet he is ignored, dropped, if at all, into the attachment abyss of an easily amused secretary's LOL cat e-mail forward. The kittens claw him to shreds, and laugh. 

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