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Literature
My Year Round Valentine
As we approach that day in November,
I'm inclined to look back and remember;
How many reasons that I do love you,
Without whom my world would be so blue.
A year gone by already so fast,
My love for you yet unsurpassed.
Of the times we laugh off, all those jokes that we share,
And those reminders that show me: you still care.
Such as that one month whose name shall not be spoken,
That nightmare from which I'm glad we've awoken.
And though I'll whine and beg for your silence,
In secret I enjoy the joke about our marriage license.
With nothing left to say I know just how,
You'll react with that adorable meow.
I'm reasonably sure you did it just now!
In your sleep perhaps through habit of force,
This quirk of yours is deep-rooted, of course!
Of course you're asleep, when else would I write?
I must do this in secret, lest have you catch sight!
So I shun those hours when the sun is bright,
And do my best work under cover of night.
And though my flirtations you'll shun,
I'll never quite be ou
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Literature
Not During Sandwich Time
           His head hurt. His side hurt. His leg hurt. His everything hurt.
           A trail of crimson followed the man stumbling his way through the mansion's halls, equally dispersed about the wall his bleeding side had been scraping against and the hard wood floors he stumbled across. His hand went to his mouth at the first sign of a haggard cough, and left it red.
           "Eugh," he drawled, absently wiping his hand through a shaggy mop of red hair. He paused, realizing his mistake about halfway through, before finishing. "Fuck it. Same color anyway."
           He sniffed at the air; surely he must be closer now. Grease. Stronger now; nearly close enough to overpower the scent of his blood. He flicked at his ear to check his distance. Sizzles and cracks. A pause of silence, and the sound renewed. A smile nearly touched his lips as his mouth began to
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Literature
Murder Hobos, Chapter 1
             It was on the third and final day of their cruise that Lanister Randulfr would experience the first of many moments that he would briefly be able to describe as the singular dumbest moment of his life. He, accompanied by the holy knight Kamalo, descended into the ship's brig to be greeted by a single guardsman, a young man in his mid-twenties with chin-length blonde hair, at a desk. He grunted over his magazine at their approach.
             "Welcome to scenic brig," he began, "my name is James Ivan and I'll be your tour guide today. Behind me are people who managed to get imprisoned on a luxury cruise somehow. You'll note that's a grand total of one. And behind you is the direction you probably want to be moving."
             Lanister, a gnome standing shorter than four feet, bore scholarly robes and a vast gray-green beard that extended most of his person. He waved
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Literature
Christmas with Annie
         Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing: a ring… I don’t mean one on the phone.
         The song echoed from the radio for about the twelfth time that night, eliciting a sigh from the resident, who lithely stepped over to its perch upon the cabinet.
         So hurry down the chimney tonight – the song ended abruptly as she flicked the radio off, before returning to her own perch.
         The Christmas tree stood alight despite the unholy hour, its dozens of tiny lights merrily illuminating the small living room. A couch that normally sat against the far wall had been moved to sit facing a small radiator, upon which hung two stockings, one marked SETH and the other ANNIE.  Beside the couch stood a small end table, upon which an open magazine rested face-down. The creature posing as a young woman stretched out across the couch,
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Farming Equipment of The Year :iconjohnnywhoa:johnnywhoa 4 7
Literature
Resplendent
Resplendent
       Beaten and broken, the demons fell around me, humbled by the Seven Sided Strike. I stood in their midst, the scars on my back warning me against accepting their deaths at face value.
       Minutes passed before I released a held breath, certain that they would not rise again. The beasts had never known I was there until it had been too late.
       “But,” I said, stooping over the corpse of an angel pinned to the ground by a spear, “they didn’t give you any warning either, did they?” With a grunt of effort, I pulled free the spear, tossing it aside without care. “This corruption no longer holds you, angel. May you find peace.”
       I pressed on through the Radiant Chapel as the angel’s spirit rose to whatever afterlife such creatures faced. If I’d had the time, I would have liked to stop and admire the architecture of Heaven. The Ch
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 10
A Hunter of the Night
       “You can’t be serious,” Aanerud plead. “The fortune teller? I thought we agreed she was going to be a fake!”
       “I know, I know,” Seth claimed, raising his hands in defense, “but I’ve got a good feeling about it.”
       “What you’ve ‘got’ is a cookie telling you to fall back on a stupid plan.”
       “You’ve got a better idea?”
       Aanerud opened her mouth and raised a finger in protest, but returned both when she couldn’t think of anything.
       “That’s about what I thought,” Seth smiled, turning to leave. “See you back at the house!”
--------------------------------------------------------------
       Coincidences don’t exist, at least not to Seth Rivers. The
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 9
Fortune Cookie
       “Uh… well, I did,” Aanerud replied, more than a little confused.
       
       “Yeah,” Seth shot back, twisting the ring in his fingers. “Well so did I, so I’m betting neither of us did.”
       Aanerud was silent for a few moments. “So what now, then?”
       Seth slumped against a wall, sliding his back down its surface until he was sitting. The ground was cold, wet and uncomfortable, and he grunted on contact, resting his right hand on his forehead. “I don’t know. Magic didn’t work, footwork didn’t work. Even contacting Direction, Drive and Seeker didn’t turn up much.”
       Aanerud let out a long, low whistle. “Wow. Well, there’s got to be something we can still do, right?”
       Seth grinned, in spi
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 8
It’s Never That Easy
The scent of freshly-brewed pseudo-coffee and air freshener greeted Seth as he crossed the threshold of the store. Dozens of college-aged students were present, most of whom chatted amongst themselves or sat alone in a booth, hunched over a laptop computer, each undoubtedly creating the next great American classic. The portion that didn’t fall into either category were either leaving or stood in line to place their orders.
He didn’t need to ask what he was doing in such a place; he held no love of their products, no desire to meet anyone present and certainly wasn’t just there for the atmosphere. Leon had left enough of a memory in his head of his reasoning, and he had no better methods of his own.  
Seth took his place in line behind a dark-skinned youth dressed in jeans and a loose tee-shirt, and carrying a backpack so over-filled that Seth couldn’t comprehend how the boy was able to stand up straight. Seth nodded in greeting as
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 7
Gone Hunting
Her task at the bank finally completed, Aanerud left the line, waving goodbye to a new friend and a request to call her later. He replied with a simple wave and a smile before turning back to the wracked teller and presenting his check.
The fresh sea air greeted her as she stepped outside, chose a random direction and started working her way through the busy midday crowd, her off-season attire earning her more than a few looks. Lust, disgust, distrust, apathy, pity, bewilderment; she noted these feelings and others in the eyes of those whose eyes found her, but the emotion of each meant as little to her as the glances themselves.
“Pawn shops, pawn shops...” she muttered to herself. “I wonder how many there could even be in this city...” She bit her lower lip as she searched the shop names as she passed, before retrieving her phone from her bag.
“Technology!” she declared as the phone hummed its opening tune. “Seattle....pawn....sho
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Literature
Crime Ring Chapter 6
Fade to Black
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Click-
“Hi, this is Anne!” the receiver broadcast, entirely too loudly, into Seth’s ear. “I can’t make it to the phone right now, call back later. Or don’t!”
The answering machine operator began her usual shpiel as he hung up the phone, and began dialing again with a sigh. Leaving a message would be pointless, he knew; she’d never check them anyway.
“Hello?” Aanerud answered on the first ring.
“Annie,” he growled, “why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Every time I’ve ever tried to call you, it rings until I get the answering machine, and then when I call immediately afterward, you instantly pick up.”
“I think you might be exaggerating just a teeny bi-“
“Every. Time.”
“Fine, I can’t get to the damn thing while it’s still ringing, okay?” she admitted.
Seth pulled the phone from hi
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 5
The Best Advice
The four continued in silence for some time as Seth tried to process that information. The concept of the Cardinal Lords of Guidance not being able to find something was nearly unfathomable for him, and went against nearly everything he knew about Them.  They were the Three Cardinal Lords of Guidance, They could find anything, anyone and anywhere.
Wait, he thought to himself, eyes opening with realization. They never said They couldn’t FIND the ring...
“Lord Seeker, my apologies, but could You repeat that?”
“We cannot tell you the location of that object,” Lord Seeker replied, exactly as he had said it the first time. He fell silent for a moment as Seth chewed over the words.
“Emphasis,” Seth thought aloud, “on which words of that sentence?”
The clouds that formed Lady Direction’s face smiled. “You seek a loophole in Our limits, young wizard?”
“Well, technically I’m se
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 4
Magic, Toasters and Lords, Oh My
The two left the hospital side by side as a man with half of a dented face entered after them, glaring with his one good eye at Aanerud as he did. She laughed aloud as the autumn rain struck her face, and after a moment Seth joined in at the vampire’s expense, rocking his right shoulder. As their laughter died down, Seth extended his hand, palm up, to test the rain.
“Not the best, but I’ve worked through worse, I suppose,” he concluded. “Still, any amount of running water makes magic a pain. It’s probably already worn away anything significant I could use for a tracking spell.”
Aanerud whistled. “You really know how to get yourself right to work, don’t you?”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I am Seattle’s greatest professional wizard,” he chided, placing one hand on his chest and reaching toward the sky with his other.
“Yes, and we can all see how wel
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 3
Identity Crisis
       To say that Seth complied and got dressed when Aanerud told him to would be.... inaccurate, at best. Instead he chose to pace about the small living room, holding his head and muttering incoherently, struggling to keep from losing his mind as Aanerud changed his shirt for him, sliding a new, less-bullet-damaged coat on over top of it and dragging him out the door, with him muttering the whole way.
       It wasn’t until he heard the steady stream of beeps that Seth finally snapped out of his panic, and realized where he was. He glanced about, taking in his new surroundings and wondered how he’d made it to such a place without even noticing, as Aanerud stood simply by the door. Everything seemed clean, sterile and a peaceful shade of white, and the room was lit brightly by a single florescent light from above, with additional light provided by a large window in the room.
       The most promin
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Literature
Crime Ring Ch 2
Chapter 2: Uninvited
          Every inhabited human home since the dawn of time has been granted, knowingly or otherwise, a magical barrier by its inhabitants, protecting it from the uninvited denizens of the supernatural spectrum. While most are familiar with its application on vampires, the barrier’s powers extend further, to include ghosts, demons and the Fair Folk. Though it was only an apartment, it was still the home of Seth Rivers, and like all homes, it too was granted this protection, a fact Seth knew well.
          And apparently, one that Hector Slick did not.
           “You dare,” he snarled, his dark eyes burning with rage, “to disrespect me by playing these fucking kids games with me, boy!?” He grasped the handle of his blade, beginning a slow draw.
          Seth, for his part, took a defensive stance, readying his shield again.
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Literature
Crime Ring, Chapter 1 (Revised)
        There are things in this world that mankind simply does not understand. Not because man cannot understand them, nor even because man has yet to understand them. These are the things that mankind once understood perfectly, and the things that mankind has since forgotten. Things that could ravage the world and turn it on its head, should mankind ever remember. Individuals possessing the power to call fire from the skies, freeze the oceans and create earthquakes with but a few simple words. Creatures, great and small, the very existence of which determine the pattern of the seasons. Creatures who ruled the seas, and to whom humanity once paid tribute as though they were gods.
        But surely, these creatures are all but tales, having never existed in the first place. Stories to pass the time, to entertain. Stories told to frighten children, or to inspire and motivate them. Or perhaps, maybe the stories are told to hide what is real, benea
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Well folks, we had a good run. Four strong years here at WCAL, 91.9 Power 92, California (PA)'s best music, but it's time to sign off. Today marked the final broadcast of Whoa Radio, as (so long as all goes well) I will be graduating next week.

Four years ago, actually around this time of the year, I became frustrated with how long I'd been waiting to hear back from the E-board at the time to get me a show time. So I drove out here, walked into the station and hijacked the Saturday night, 8-10PM time slot. And so Whoa Radio made its first broadcast, opening with my favorite song of all time, Rollover DJ by Jet. 

In those years, I've switched my major to something I cared about, broken my spine, quit drawing, started writing and got married to the lovely HiSS-Graphics and more. I'd like to take this moment to thank all of you who have actively listened over these years and supported my various media of work. 

So a big thank you to these amazing folks who have supported my work or just been there as a great friend, in no specific order:
:icons0s2: :iconantiimage: :icondammitdoug: :iconmordacaimt: :iconthe-vehicledestroyer: :iconhuhxyz: :iconjackskelowine: :iconpsycaster: :iconmr-page: :iconwickednavi: :icontheargoninja: :iconb1izzardhawkfa:

And of course, my beautiful wife :iconhiss-graphics: . Thank you for putting up with my stupid moping and self doubt. I love you <3

Now, on to the future:
Does this account have a future here at DeviantArt? I do not draw anymore and, though I once thought I'd eventually get back into it, I don't think I ever really will. I do enjoy writing still, though after this past semester I think Microsoft Word has become a trigger for angst, depression and frustration. Countless all-nighters and research projects have kept me so far behind on work that actually matters to be that Soul Survivor currently stands at a whopping four and a half chapters. 

Even if that weren't the case, I don't truly like the idea of posting chapters of something I'd like to publish here on DA; seems like a bit of a bad idea.

One of the things I really enjoyed about Whoa Radio was that it was some last tie I had here on DA. One last thing I actually contributed... mind you only like half a dozen people ever actually listened, but that's beside the point. Without it, I fear this might be the end of the account.

So barring any short stories I ever tell, I suppose this is the end of my contributions here. I'll probably still be around posting comments and favoriting stuff, but even that has dwindled in recent times. I suppose we'll see what the future holds, though; who knows, maybe I'll stumble into something to share with you all. I do have a short set of joke stories to tell, so maybe I'll add that.

Look out for A Man and a Murderous Midget. You'll know that's when I'm back.

Until then, this has been Whoa Radio, signing out. Good night, and good luck.

OH RIGHT THE UPLOAD LINK: here it is, the Final Whoa Radio. 

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johnnywhoa
Johnny "Whoa" Sproul
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
"Johnny's like a magnet with sharks attached to it." - Doug Wilson, 2011

I want to write stories, entertain people, and get rich while doing so. I think that's a good goal.
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:iconrogueroastbeef:
RogueRoastBeef Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2017  New Deviant
I see you do literature, and I should say you are decent at doing all the writing.
Reply
:iconjohnnywhoa:
johnnywhoa Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you! It's been a while since I've had time for it but I hope to change that soon!
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:icononeeyestreetboy:
ONEeyeStreetBoy Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2016  Student General Artist
Hey can you tell your wife I did that thing she wanted.
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:icononeeyestreetboy:
ONEeyeStreetBoy Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2016  Student General Artist
Happy birthday hope you had a good one. :)
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:iconjohnnywhoa:
johnnywhoa Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!
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:icontheasorlinsstrike:
TheAsorlinsStrike Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2016  Student Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday.
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:iconjohnnywhoa:
johnnywhoa Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks
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:icontheasorlinsstrike:
TheAsorlinsStrike Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2016  Student Traditional Artist
No problem.
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:icondrakithu:
Drakithu Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2016
Happy Birthmas! :santa:
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:iconjohnnywhoa:
johnnywhoa Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Merry Thanksmas!
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