Anonymous wrote:
Anonymous wrote:Oh, let me tell you about the epic saga of Jackson, the Pomona College student who endured the harrowing ordeal of surviving an entire school year without air conditioning, armed with nothing but a $39 fan. This tale of sheer grit and unyielding perseverance has already been etched into the annals of heroic legend.
First, let's establish the scene. Jackson, a paragon of modern luxury and entitlement, found himself marooned in a Pomona College dorm room—a place where one might expect to encounter creature comforts such as, oh, I don’t know, air conditioning. But no, Jackson’s room was deprived of this basic necessity. As if fate itself had conspired against him, the air conditioning unit was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was left with only a $39 fan, a device so basic it might as well have been powered by steam engines and staffed by the ghosts of Victorian servants.
Picture the drama. Jackson, a brave soul of the 21st century, was forced to confront the cruel, unrelenting heat of the Pomona Valley. This was not just any heat; this was the kind of heat that turns asphalt into molten lava and makes one wonder if the sun has declared a personal vendetta. But Jackson didn’t back down. No, he faced it with nothing but a humble fan and an unwavering spirit, like a knight with a squirt gun fighting off a dragon.
Let’s talk about that fan. Oh, the $39 fan—a masterpiece of modern engineering. One might be tempted to believe it’s a relic from a bygone era of fan technology, but no. This was Jackson’s lifeline. It oscillated with a grace that could only be described as “moderately effective.” Its ability to circulate air was akin to asking a whiff of perfume to clear the stench of a dumpster fire. Yet, Jackson, ever the optimist, was convinced this fan was his salvation.
Now, if you think Jackson was just a bit of a drama queen, you clearly underestimate the psychological warfare of living without air conditioning. Every evening, as the mercury climbed and the sweat beads glistened on his brow, Jackson had to confront the reality that his fan, bless its modest blades, could only do so much. One might have heard him whisper, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” as he endured the sweltering conditions that would make even the most seasoned desert traveler weep.
Jackson’s fortitude did not go unnoticed. He became something of a campus legend—a symbol of human endurance. Students gathered to hear his tales of survival, hanging on every word as he recounted how he spent hours in the library, using its blessed air conditioning as an escape from his room’s infernal heat. They marveled at his resilience, at his ability to function while exuding the very essence of what it means to be a Pomona College student—overcoming obstacles with nothing but determination and, in this case, a glorified plastic whirlwind.
So here’s to Jackson—the hero of our time, the martyr of the modern age. Let his story be a reminder that while some may complain about their air-conditioned rooms and state-of-the-art gadgets, true courage lies in enduring the trials of a $39 fan. Indeed, Jackson’s triumph over the heat is a lesson in perseverance, a testament to human willpower, and an ever-relevant tale of how even the smallest inconveniences can be transformed into grand, heroic epics.
Ah yes, more of the nothing can be wrong with Pomona, there must be something wrong with OP’s kid.