If you went to the University of Cincinnati around then, you've partied there.
If you've been found with your head stuck in the balcony railing puking your brains out, or thrown couches down onto the driveway at cars, you've partied there.
If you've pissed off of a 50 foot balcony next to another dude to see who can hit the cars below, you've partied there.
If you've gotten hammered and pissed in one of the bedrooms, you've partied there...hell, you may have even LIVED there.
If you've thrown your friend's clothes down the stairs, then repeatedly kicked him in the ribcage, you've partied there.
If you've been drunk enough to shit on the bathroom carpet while bent over puking, you've partied there, and you were probably not sober.
If you've climbed out a sketchy 2' x 3' 3rd floor bedroom window, shimmied across a duct-taped downspout held up by a gutter above a dry-rotted balcony, just to drink on the 65 degree angle roof 60+ feet above the concrete below, then you've definitely partied there.
If you've made out with some of the ugliest chicks in Cincinnati, sadly the chances are pretty good you were partying there.
"At The Dan's?"
"Yep. It turns out that he'd been drinking."
"Yea, hence the nickname."
"Dude, James made out with like 4 random chicks at The Dan's last night."
"Isn't that the same queer that shit on the bathroom floor?"
"Indeed...what a douche."