By Nell Badgley & Conrad Dahm

SECRET LOCATION- The 100 Days Party is one of Grinnell’s most cherished and anticipated traditions. The event traditionally takes place 100 days before graduation and provides a chance for fourth years to act like dirty, low-life sluts, ruin their existing friendships, and conduct acts that they will come to deeply regret for the rest of their lives (or at least the rest of the semester). According to the Grinnell-Herald Register, 100 days is considered “one of the premier parties of the year where the graduating class can show how cool they are.” As the only fourth years employed by the B&S, we, Nell and Conrad, decided to do an investigative report on 100 days. 

Our verdict: it fucking sucked LMAOOOOOOO 

Donning our press jackets, helmets, and Meta Raybans (thank you SPARC funding/finally putting our journalist gear sitting in the PUBS office to use), we entered the foray ready to do some real journalism (unlike that other publication that shall not be named).

Entering the event, we noticed it was eerily quiet: no loud music, no flashing lights, not even crushed up cans of Old Milwaukee littering the yard. Arriving, we knew this would be a serious mission to uncover the most tightly-kept secrets of the most exclusive night of the academic year. 

Two bouncers guarded the door, solemnly smoking cigarettes and talking about Foucault or some bullshit like that. We prepared to show proof of Venmo for entry (again, thank you to SPARC for funding this). We nervously pulled out our phones and showed our $75 entrance fee. 

“Why are you guys shaking so much? You’re good, but you need to chill. Take a wristband if you want,” one of the bouncers told us as we entered. 

Bravely entering the premises, we found that the event was truly “intimate”. In fact, we could count just eight people in attendance, composed of seven seniors and one third-year student expelled for academic dishonesty.

In our first survey, we report that out of the students, four were “on a ‘break’ with my ‘girlfriend’ for the night”, two were virgins but had done hand stuff before, and the one required mono-positive student was, of course, in attendance.

In an exclusive interview with the mono-positive student, who was contractually obligated to remain anonymous, the student was surprisingly happy with the evidently low turnout.

“Every year, I’m happy to do it,” they said. “I have to maintain my infection on a year-round basis in case I get a call for a job. You never know when someone’s going to need me. It’s tough work, but somebody has to do it. It’s nice to be needed…” 

We interviewed other students about the event. “While I can’t disclose the details of the event, let’s just say… yeah. That. Was. Awesome,” attendee Chad Jeepitee `27 reported to us before breaking out in a coughing fit, hacking up a ball of phlegm with a determined diameter of 2.5 inches. 

As we walked around the event, we also noticed one DJ, a 28-year-old, vaping and scrolling on Instagram Reels. Everyone seemed to be wearing headphones, silent disco style, listening to his various reels. We could deduce various NBA edits and AI-generated songs from the collection.

The organizers of the event said it was “reminiscent of the first NSO event the class of 2026 had all the way back in 2022.” 

Disappointed, we left the event and solemnly walked back to the PUBS office to write our article. We guess real investigative journalism will have to wait.