PNARP.SYS is an evil, vile thing
Disinfected on June 20, 2010.
The horror.
…The horror!!
To my horror, while ooga-boogling for my own blebsite, I discovered that this hideous, virus-infested thing called PNARP.SYS was now cluttering up my search results in the Google! It had risen from obscurity to the second result for yours truly, and would soon—if I didn’t do something—overtake my precious website in traffic poopularity! And, to my ever-increasing horror, upon further investigationalisms, I even discovered that this “Pure Networks Address Resolution Protocol” driver (if it really is a driver…) was infesting my own virus-laden computational machine’s hard drive, too!
Oh, no!
Obviously I had to do something about this, so I summoned the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™—the only man who would know what to do. His sage advice had helped me so many times in the past that I had lost count (but I was sure it was somewhere north of zero and most likely south of two).
While waiting for the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ to arrive, I called Ravna Olegg-Thorssondóttir and bawled my eyes out about the horrors I had encountered. (Ravna moved out of my palatial home a couple weeks ago, back to her own tiny little apartment, after playing “hide the banana” one too many times with my clutch of fiendish gorillas, which—gorillas being gorillas and all—became overly vigorous and all too much for one mere Ravna to handle.) She came over at once to aid and comfort me—and the gorillas her. While we waited for the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ to arrive, we played our favorite game: Tiddlywinks with Ravna’s bare-sweet toesies.
As always, Ravna’s silken toes went down smoother than John Updike. Up, down, in, out… we played, my barefooted little missy’s toes askitter with glee and my Pnårpy self aquiver with whizgigglery. I flabbled my salicious little Ravna’s feet in the air, wide-splayed… so close to whizgiggling all over with persimmony delight. But then Ravna dodged, parried, rorbling hard, all the while giggling, about to—
My doorbell hooted. Right at that very moment when Ravna, her milky-white toes atwitter with smee, had almost won at our feetilicious little game, the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ arrived—Magic Oreo Machine™ in tow and ready for duty.
Immediately upon his arrival, I ran up to him and started shrieking and babbling about the horrifying horrors I had encountered on the Internet and then on my own computerizing machine. The captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ listened intently. He always listened intently to his favorite little Pnårp. Ravna, her ten toes asplay with mirth, entertained herself while I dealt with the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ by sharing her feet and toes—and other things!—with my clutch of fiendish gorillas.
The captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ said he knew just what to do! Naturally, it involved the Magic Oreo Machine™, and would, he said, only take an hour or sixteen. Ravna, her toenails now polished to a high shine after greatly entertaining my clutch of great apes, said she could hang around while the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ did his thang. I was relieved.
Ravna wiggled her toes and giggled out her nose.
While we waited for the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ to do his thang with his prized machine, Ravna and I played our second favorite game: Nippy-toes with her sweet little feet! Ravna, her giggly feet askew with mirth and alabaster, her toes wiggling and giggling to the sound of the letter Å as I blew it out my nose, loved this game even more than tiddlywinks with her bare-sweet toesies.
Hours passed, and still the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ worked his magic on my computer and the Google, and still I worked my magic on Ravna’s ten little nippy-toes. Ravna, her feet held high and proud, her toes stretched wide, erect and enflamed with passion and crunkfire, was having the best damned foot-slapping good time of her life… when suddenly there came from my computerational machine the loudest, most terrifyingly grievous click! I had ever heard in my life.
The captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ gasped in horror. I dropped my little Nippy-Toes’ feet and rushed to my computer’s side. Something was horrifyingly wrong. Instead of fixing my problem, the captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ had only made it worse. PNARP.SYS had spread its tentacles across my computer’s whole hard drive, most of the motherboard, and into every PCI slot and USB socket.
My computer died in my arms.
The captain of the Magic Oreo Machine™ apologized, wrote up an invoice for his services totalling $1,769,230.35 (plus 18% gratuity), and left without saying another word. Ravna, her sweet barefootsies and toesies afliver with silly diminutives, rushed to my side to console me. I bawled more of my eyes out at the death of my computer. My poor computer. He was so young.
There was only one thing left to do…
Taking Ravna’s barefeetsies in my hand, I vowed to avenge my valiant computering machine for what PNARP.SYS had done to him. I shrunk myself down to the size of an IP packet—no bigger than a few thousand electrons—and darted into the cable modem sitting on my desk. Down the wire, out the router, through more routers, switches, gateways, and other technobabble… I was on my way onto the Internet itself, to put an end to PNARP.SYS once and for all.
Once and for all.
Images of my brave little computer, maintaining this pithy little blog for over eleven years now, only to be cut down in his prime, never left my mind (other than during brief moments to contemplate Ravna’s sweet toe-glow after a hearty game of tiddlywinks and nippy-toes).
It was time to put an end to PNARP.SYS once and for all.
Once and for all…
[Feetnote: Did you know that that Lady GaGa loaned her costume designer to the American television series Glee for the episode “Theatricality”? Wikipedia told me this, and since someone must have read this intriguing little factlet somewhere and added it to the free encyclopedia that even an inflatable hotdog vendor can edit, it’s most likely true and stuff.]