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75% of UD Dorm Residents: “Thank F*ck It’s Less than 120 Degrees in Our Rooms Now!”

 

While many are mourning the dropping temperatures and the obligation to stand in that wretched Smith Hall Starbucks line for a nice, toasty, will-definitely-make-you-late-for-class caramel macchiato, there’s a certain group of students that are celebrating instead. It’s the ones that always showed up to class sweaty, damp, and smelling like a wet blue hen: the AC-less survivors.

A study from the Housing Department shows that 75% of UD students go without AC each year. That’s seven and one half of a student out of ten who are suffering while you, in your ivory castle on Amstel, get to enjoy a continuous stream of 60-degree air. You probably don’t even turn the AC off when you leave home either, you privileged swine. 

“Yeah, people have been whispering about my smell for weeks now,” explained Cole S. Weaty, a victim of AC-lessness. “It’s really hurt my self-esteem. UD claims that they want all of their students to feel accepted, but they intentionally put me in a situation where no one would wanna be my friend because they can’t stand to breathe around me.”  

“There would be times where I stayed at Morris until 2 a.m. just so I wouldn’t have to go back to my hot dorm during the day,” said Bella Zy, another victim, looking quite forlorn. “It’s really done a number on my reputation– I used to be known for slacking. Now I’m getting weird offers called ‘scholarships.’ Is that some type of boat?”

“It’s my dream to destroy the planet,” said a senior environmental studies major. “How could UD force me to be both environmentally conscious, and a slave to Mother Nature?”

“Winter is coming,” declared a particularly stoic student, clad in all black with a tacky fake scar over his eye and what we frighteningly believed to be a sheath attached to his waist.

Further accounts of tragic experiences ranged from having to sleep on the cool concrete pavements of Main Street, to getting fined for leaving a refrigerator open for an entire week straight as a makeshift air conditioner. Some have expressed their desires to start weekly group-therapy sessions called “Burn Victims” in order to get through the trauma together. Others have been discussing plans to turn the season of Winter itself into a religion, already praising “Jesus Iced” as their one and only savior. 

Brown, Harter, and Cannon Hall residents – you are all brave warriors against the satanic sun. To the New Castle, Smyth, and Harrington folks: yes, you have permission to sleep with the covers on and without the violent drone of a fan again. And of course, to the Lane, Thompson, Russel, and Warner students: we know that we have a moral duty as fellow classmates to shed an equivalent number of tears to match the amount of sweat that has poured out of your foreheads, uncontrollably, for the past two months.

 

 

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