We spent the last week or so putting together this extensive list of the best frat palaces in the country, and there's one that didn't make the cut which we still had to feature. It's good enough that it deserves its own post.
The tip came from one law school bro, who sent it over way back in early December. It's not technically about a fraternity house, and the guy and his friends aren't technically fraternity members—but we found it a great lesson in how you can still keep friends, have fun, and, above all, not take yourself too seriously after you graduate. Who knew we'd all get a life lesson out of this ridiculous list?
Let me begin by saying that, no, my friends and I are not in a fraternity. And no, we are not undergrads. But these details, I insist, are technicalities. I'd like to take the time to tell the story of a group of bros, who refuse to let the cruel and cynical bastards of law school drain their souls and who live in a house which is known and feared by many.
To begin, we started as 4 guys going into law school at XXXX in August of 2011. For many, law school is stressful, torturous, and full of self-aggrandizing assholes who have egos larger than life. But myself and my three roommates soon realized that we were the "black sheep of the group." You see, for first year students at XXXX Law we have a week of orientation called law camp. This is where you prep for law school, learn how to read cases, etc. But for us, starting the first night we moved in, this was a free week to go out and introduce ourselves to our town. That week, and for the next few month, we partied so much the four of us came to be well known around campus. Every Tuesday, for about the first month or so (before everyone started being lame and actually studying), we had a weekly boozefest known as Techno Tuesday, were things got wierd, often.
Anyways, we became known as the law school "bros" (which I think is supposed to be derogatory, but being in a fraternity in undergrad, it seemed about right to me). We were approached sometime in the middle of fall semester by a guy who lived in a house known as the "Winmore." Now, this house was known throughout the school as the party house. At the beginning of the year, every year the house played host to a massive party which was relatable to the premier of the school year. Kegs, ladies, and crazy stories from the summer. We had heard about the house, and we also heard about the rumors that if anyone wanted to have a party there, the residents had to oblige.
So this guy who lived there approached us that fall, asking if we wanted to continue the legacy (he and his roommates were graduating in the spring). Now, I personally had thought "who is going to live in the Winmore next year? How cool would that be?". So me, being the bro that I am, immediately get pumped, we're gonna live in the Winmore, hell yea. We had some, well, cleanliness issues in our apartment at the time so a few of my roommates were hesitant at the idea of upgrading to an even bigger place, but in the end we decided to give it a run, and our group inherited the Winmore.
Let's talk a little about this house. This house is a nearly 3,000 square foot mansion (in comparison to apartments) built in 1906. The wiring is suspect and we fear electrical fires every day. The lease includes a clause that we will not sue for the lead paint on the walls and the wallpaper comes straight from the 40's. But my goodness is this a great house to throw down in. We have 3 full bathrooms, 5 bedrooms, a full kitchen, you name it. Problem is, the house is so big that its extremely expensive to heat, so we've been icicle bros up until November 30, when we finally could not withstand waking up to seeing our breath on the air any longer and decided to turn on the heat (weak I know).
The 3rd floor is technically condemned but we use it mostly for storage (the city cut power to the third floor a while back) since the rest of the house is so big, we barely need the space for anything anyways. Also, we're pretty sure the attic is haunted. There's this stale rotten air up there and one of the walls has a little trap door which leads to a room just below the rafters of the house. The only things in the room: a torn up mattress and an old, rusted out toy train set. Creepy. Plus we were told, prior to moving in of a few "run ins" with some paranormal activity. Needless to say the "ghost room" has been blockaded off in the attic so no one can enter or exit.
The Winmore has been in the hands of law students for 30 years now, passed down from class to class, bro to bro for years. One of the coolest things about the house is that you know there are crazy stories and wild epic stuff that happened, but you don't know exactly what the stories are or what has happened. It's all part of the legacy of the house, the spirit of knowing it's not safe to throw a black light party because God knows what you will be able to see, the traditoon of knowing you're in "the party house." The house got its name from a stereotypical anti-bro who thought he could handle living in the house, but couldn't. I'm not going to mention any names, but lets just say his last name was Winmore. The anti-bro hated living in the house so much that he tried every trick he was learning in his real-estate law class to get out of his lease. He hated living there so much his bro friends just started calling the house the Winmore to piss him off. The name has stuck ever since.
Moral of the story, don't let life suck the fun out of you, stand up to snobbish anti-bros, and bro out, even when everyone else wants to be a stick in the mud. We refuse to submit ourselves to the bullsh*t that is law school and bro on in the Winmore, only letting studying get in our way when we have to.