Also known as the CD's, this is the arena where fraternity street cred is born. Young gentlemen pork, blast, punish, drill, much, beak, and rail their way to stardom in this facility. It is an aggregation of blankets and bunks and it smells like used condoms and beer farts.
We slammed Kamchatka all night with the pi betas and we didn't even make it to Kilpiss because they were horny and just wanted to go straight to the cold dorms and take names.
by Phil T May 22, 2006