By Josh Emrys Payong

An agonizing absence has chilled the campus air. No longer can drunk students seek solace from a certain orange beast after coming back from a night of violently making out with thermostats. No longer can netizens use his divine visage to farm a consistent 100-150 yakarma per post. No longer will Grinnellians be able to feel love ever again. That’s right. Boy George – boss of the South Campus mafia, angel investor for Loose Grilled Cheese, and the very picture of masculine virility – has decided to cut his ties with the Jewel of the Prairie and temporarily return to his hometown of Gilman, Iowa to live with his cousin, Lorax George. Luckily, our brave informants know why he’s left.

“He just appeared at my doorstep one night and told me that Lenny Purrkins was waiting by his home to tell him he wasn’t allowed to live there anymore,” reports Felina Foster ‘26, “so I had to let him crash at my place. For a Boy who’s done so much for campus culture…it’s heartbreaking.” Foster, co-captain of the Grinnell (pronounced Jrinnell) Georges Purrkour team, has since contemplated dissolving the club – a major source of yearly applicants to the college – in protest.

The sudden change to housing policy has not only disrupted the plans of Boy George and a large portion of students who prefer not to pay up to $15,988 a year for subpar housing but has also deeply affected the communities that tie Grinnell together. Landlords have resorted to OnlyFans, townspeople drift further and further apart from their only reliable source of enjoyment (i.e., siccing the police on student partygoers), and self-gov has practically died. 

“I don’t even know how the neighborhood would look without his trademark 2 by 3 by 3-foot cat house just around the corner,” laments Grinnellius Towny, George’s former neighbor, “he brought dead mice and fresh birds to our cookouts, mediated domestic squabbles, paid everyone’s rent with his grilled cheese earnings, and patrolled the area for servants of Athanasius the Undying. I remember when he’d let me hang out at his place – filled with used GEEK BARs, slimy shrooms, and underwear donated by friendly college students – when I needed time away from my meddling wife. Just a stand-up guy.”

On top of the multitudes of questionable administrative decisions made by trustees like Dick Superrich ‘95 and Percy Moggedurass ‘98, this recent housing policy change is simply the last 8-patty burger that broke the sporto’s digestive system. Boy George has reportedly considered transferring schools ever since the Great Norris Poopocalypse of Spring ‘25.

“The campus cat employment market has never been more saturated,” states Boy George’s talent manager, Kat LaVerr, “my client’s talents can only take him so far. We’re eyeing top schools in alcoholic consumption like UM Duluth, Tulane, and even ASU, but luck will ultimately decide where he goes.”

That said, LaVerr acknowledges that no school could ever be like Grinnell, with its diversity, its leaky bathrooms, and its unique stench fuelled by weed, manure, and CAFOs. Go Forth, Boy George. Next weekend, we shall sacrifice Relish House’s last functioning toilet in your name.