Adam Spielman

A writer's blog.

In Paradise, the snooze button gave you six minutes.  Jim hit his again.  He’d lost count.  Maybe two hundred hits, maybe a thousand. Outside his window the sun was shining and the birds were chirping.  Every goddamn day with the sun and the birds and the breeze.  He buried his head in the pillow. His …

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Disenfranchised Pluffkin had been nipping purses and jacking wallets since he was nine years old.  As he often introduced himself, he was born to nothing, raised by the low, and he only drank from the top shelf.  Aside from purses and wallets he was certified master of every sort of con.  He could deal himself …

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Annual Cleopatra Lottery Spend a Night with the Egyptian Queen! Enter in person at:  777 Lay Lady Lane We accept both chance and fate. The Cleopatra Lottery is run by the Paradise Grant Committee and is in full compliance with the Pussy Pact.  All participants enter willingly and with full knowledge that their indulgence rights …

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Jim couldn’t take it anymore.  He looked away.  The angel laughed, grabbed the telescope, and looked for himself. “This is nothing,” the angel said.  “You should have seen Carthage.  Or Nanking.  Or Rwanda.  Hell, I’ve seen prison-rapes that were more entertaining.” “Entertaining,” Jim repeated.  He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.  “So this – …

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Jim was on a pleasant hike through a mountain pass.  It felt good to breathe some fresh air.  Some Tennessee air.  A lazy crick ran alongside him, and there were birds in the trees.  If there were seasons in Paradise, it was late summer.  Everything was green and the air dangled between warm and cool. …

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The Orgy was a floating ship with red sails.  It was enormous and Jim couldn’t fit it into his brain. It’s like New York City flying over Tennessee, he thought. “How big is this place?” he said. “You’re looking at it.” “No, I mean, like, the whole thing.  Paradise.” Cherry flicked him in the nose.  …

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“Fore!” Jim yelled.  Even in Paradise he hooked the damn ball. “Ha!” Hitler laughed.  “Right in the trees!” A bear-drawn chariot carried them up the fairway.  Jim looked sideways at his companion, thinking he looked much better without the mustache.  This was all the result of a lottery, the winner of which was balls deep …

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Normal 0 false false false EXECUTE Thank you for choosing the Lit Genome Project.  The following story has been randomly generated for you according to these preferences:  sci-fi roots, irreverent satire, absurdism, top-heavy extrapolation, implausible premise, time-traveling robot.             The Lit Genome Project is brought to you by New Thought Paradigm.  Why listen to music …

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“Pizza? I didn’t think there’d be pizza in heaven,” Jim said. “Why not? Pizza is the shit,” the angel said. “And cursing. And beer? Is that beer?” In fact, the table was laid out with all the things Jim loved. Chicken wings, malt whiskey, chili fries, club sandwiches, those little wieners wrapped in bacon. Over …

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