The House the Paranoid Man: a continuing story.

John Smith lives at 123 Maple Avenue, Anytown, USA.

He is a man of modest means but one thing in particular stands out:

All his life, he has been inudated with a sense of paranoia.

He feels that everyone is out to get him and everyone is going to rob him blind. Everything he owns is bolted down or somehow ‘protected’ from theft.

For example, in his bathroom, his toothbrushes are tethered to the counter, much like electronics at a computer store.

His Remote Control is bolted to the coffee table, which in turn, is bolted to the floor.

His silverware is tied to a cinderblock.
Tell me more about John Smith.

His wife is chained to the bed.

Although I’m not sure if that’s related to theft… :smiley:

He shreds all of his garbage before he sets it out on the curb. All of it. Not just his mail and other papers, but soup cans and pickle jars.

And leave his trash cans on the curb the night before? No way. He keeps them locked in the garage until the trashman is outside his house. THEN he brings them out. And dumps them in the truck himself. He doesn’t go back into the house until he sees the trash masher come down. (He joined the Union so he was allowed to press the trash mashing button himself.)

Also, he thinks the “O” in the word “of” is an eyeball just watching him. Watching, watching, watching. He never uses the word “of”.


He doesn’t even trust himself, so to stop being spied upon he’s destroyed all his mirrors.

The glass in all his windows is painted black.

He has a sign out front, threatening tresspassers with death…via laser beams & Giant Mutant Attack Wolverines.

I think you heard this wrong, Rue. It’s the oo words he never ever uses.


I also heard that he knows that Carly Simon song really is about him.
Not that it matters anyway. He has thrown out the radio, lest they use it to spy on him.

Oh you’re right Babs. He just won’t use “of” in, like, thread titles and stuff. Other than that “of” is Jake.

He has a small handgun with a silencer, which he keeps in his car. When he’s out running errands or whatever, he’ll use the gun to destroy any surveilance cameras he sees.

He doesn’t use the phone for fear it’s been bugged. He rarely leaves the house for any reason and has his groceries delivered to him. He leaves just enough money under the rug on the porch and the delivery guy just leaves his packages by the door. He never opens the door for anyone, for any reason.

He never pays his taxes, that way the Government won’t know his Social Security Number.

All trucks outside his home is subject to search and a nasty note on the windshield demanding they not park in the neighborhood.

He posts on numberous message boards lengthy tales about Government Conspiracies. I have it on his sworn testimony that the neighbor next door didn’t really move 3 blocks away, but was put into the witness protection program and is about to testify again Mr. Smith whereas Mr. Smith will then have to spend the rest of his life in prison for a crime he did not commit. Then Mr. Smith will escape and look for a one arm man for the rest of his life.

He’s also very fond of Julia Roberts.




(I didn’t even get that my title was wonky. erm, I meant: The house, the paranoid man. but, erm, you know how when cant do codes for titles, uh huh…)

The paranoid man also keeps his keys safe from prying hands:

His house key is in a locked box, which is in another box,locked, which is tied to a cinder block, which is tied to his ankle. His car key is in another box, of course.


Every night, before he goes to bed, John looks in his closet, under his bed, and in each one of his dresser drawers, to make sure no one is lurking there, waiting for him to fall asleep. Waiting for him to be vulnerable. Waiting…

There is a trunk in the closet under the stairs behind the hidden panel where the rats live. The rats guard the box for John, and he talks to them in the rat tongue, whispering stories of old. John has forgotten what is locked in the trunk in the closet under the stairs behind the hidden panel where the rats live. The key was stolen many years ago, so John just visits the trunk and talks to it, hoping it will get tired of him and open.

John cut all ties with his family, because he was under the impression that they had all been replaced by CIA agents who had been surgically and cosmetically altered to LOOK like his family. Poor John.

Creepy thing is, he was right. Man, was the CIA steamed when he figured out their plan. And upon being dismissed from the assignment, the agent that was pretending to be John’s mother had one hell of a time explaining to the wife and kids why he now looked like a middle aged woman.

The floors, the walls and the ceilings are all covered with aluminium foil so that no one can read his brains waves that he’s emitting when he thinks those terrible, those … those awful forbidden thoughts that no one must know about.

He is convinced that the muscle spasm he keeps getting in his left arm is a huge worm that has tunneled into his flesh.

They put it there! :eek:

The foil also helps block the mind-controlling transmissions being emitted by the power lines outside in the street. (Of course he has his own generator.)

He didn’t trust the water supply, because of the chemicals They put in it to poison his will and sap his virility. At first, he relied on rainwater barrels … but then he realised about chemtrails, and the sinister psychedelics the Government releases into the atmosphere. So now he buys (via mail order, in a false name) tanks of compresses hydrogen and compressed oxygen, runs tubes between them to a nozzle, lights it up, and makes his own water. Let’s see Them contaminate that!