Rumor has it the inside is just as wild. You’ve got slanted walls everywhere, which means furniture placement is a nightmare. Good luck finding a spot for a bookshelf. You’d need to hire a geometry teacher just to hang a picture.
There’s a skylight at the very tip-top. So, if you stand directly under it, you feel like the main character in a sci-fi movie. Or a very confused moth. It’s probably incredible during a thunderstorm, though.
Iron Maiden Powerslave Pyramid House | MaidenFans
And the bedrooms? They’re in the basement. Because why not keep the pyramid as a giant, empty living room? That’s living with confidence. Peak 1970s energy, right there.
Why do we love it so much?
Because it’s weird. In a world of beige houses and identical mailboxes, Gurnee’s Pyramid House stands its ground. It doesn’t care about your opinions on modern architecture. It just is.
It’s a conversation starter. You can’t drive past it without pointing and laughing or gasping. “Would you live there?” my friend asked me last week. I said, “Only if I could wear a toga every day.” He agreed that was the rule.
The house has been on and off the market a few times. Last I heard, someone bought it and planned to keep the vibe alive. Thank goodness. Can you imagine if they painted it beige? A tragedy.
Let’s be real: house values in the area are normal. But this one is priceless for the sheer joy of confusion it brings. It’s a landmark. A weird, triangular, baffling landmark.
Iron Maiden Powerslave Pyramid House | MaidenFans
You’ve got to see it
If you’re ever in Gurnee—maybe for Great America or a random road trip—find this house. It’s on Hunt Club Road, tucked away like a secret. And bring snacks. You’ll want to sit and stare for a bit.
Some locals call it “The Crypt.” Others just say, “Oh, the weird house.” I call it a masterpiece of ‘I-do-what-I-want’. Because that’s what it is. A defiant, glorious, triangular middle finger to boring architecture.
So next time you see a photo of it online, don’t scroll past. Appreciate the audacity. The builder wasn’t thinking about resale value. He was thinking, “What if my house looked like a giant wedge of cheese that worships the sun?” And he went for it.
Honestly, don’t we all wish we had that kind of guts? To build a pyramid and just own it? That’s the dream, my friend. That’s the dream.
Anyway, I’m off to google pyramid-shaped furniture. Just in case. You know, for inspiration. Sips coffee, stares off into the distance.
