Christmas, Eh

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Front: Captain Imperfecto Left rear: Nico and Christopher waiting for the football game

December 23rd, 2013

I lost the enthusiasm for Christmas. It’s been about five years now but the joy isn’t there for me. I still love seeing the decorations that my neighbors have placed outside on their house. I even participate in the activity so my kids won’t feel left out.

There is so much controversy at this time of year that comes out on social media that seems to kill the illusion of a Norman Rockwell holiday. But I’m not sure if that is the real reason why I’m not that much into the holiday.

Maybe it’s the 80-degree weather here in Florida that just brings me down. I know what some of my readers will say, “try shoveling snow for ten hours just for it to snow again.” But driving around in the heat all day makes me forget the time of year that it is. It’s only when the Christmas music plays that will remind me that the holiday season is near.

The music will serenade me allowing me to fall in-love with the festive season.

“Feliz Navidad, feliz Navidad!

Feliz Navidad, prospero año felicidad!

Feliz Navidad, feliz Navidad!

Feliz Navidad, prospero año felicidad!

I want to wish you a Merry Christmas!”

When that song is playing on the radio, I’ll sing with the English parts and stare out my car window where I will pay attention to the holiday displays and think to my self.

“Wow, it’s Christmas, eh.” When the song ends so does my good will feeling.

I can see why kids are in-love with this time of year.

The great thing about being a kid is that I didn’t care about American politics. As a kid I didn’t judge anyone about what was right or wrong. I didn’t bother to worry about people’s religion. I just remember being with my family. Seeing the youth in my parents, hugging my grandparents, comparing presents with my brothers and sisters. We were young and everyone alive. It was a happy time for all of us because on this one day there was joy to the world. And why not be happy? Everyone had presents!

Now all my grandparents are gone. My siblings are off in their own world and my parents are too busy trying to figure out how social media works. I suppose it’s social media that takes the wind out of me. Everything in society seems so negative now. What happened to Joy to the World!

Look, I want everyone to appreciate time with the ones they love. Christmas has special meaning for everyone who celebrates it. For me it’s about personal reflection. I’m well aware of the religious meaning behind it. I appreciate the fact people have strong feelings about this time of year one way or another. But as I reflect on the past I find less joy celebrating happiness when the digital age has taken away so much of the magic that I once held as a child.

Hopefully my egreetings.com Christmas email cards I sent out will open.

Nico, Christopher and I appreciate all the help and support you have shown us over the past year and a half. We have gown to over 20,000-member family. No matter what faith you are. If you have family, don’t have family, rich poor, angry, happy or sad. I do wish you all the best this time of year. And if there is one thing I believe I can say without offending anyone it is, Happy New Year. See you all in 2014. I’m on vacation =).


Lyrics Feliz Navidad Written by: Jose Filiciano
Label: RCA, 1970

©Copyright 2013 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. 

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Wisdom

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Left to right: Nico and Christopher checking out a Steam Engine at a train museum

December 16th, 2013

Round and round life goes. I can just watch from the sideline or I can get involved. But participating can be hard when I’m faced with an emotion that I never had to worry about before. For instance, I have never experienced these long bouts of sadness. I’m not built that way. I was wired to be fun and outgoing and yet I can’t find a way to tap back into that.

I have struggled with this unhappiness since last year. I can pretend that I’m happy and slap a smile on my damn face to pretend that all is well in my life. But then I’m reduced to being like all the fake people on Facebook who like to brag how great their life is. #blessed #lovemylife #happilymarried  

I suppose I’m pretty cynical now. However, I’m keeping my emotions real.

I hate having a good week followed up by a few bad extra weeks. I would think I could simply undo the rewiring over the past year and simply find my old self under this exterior. Maybe the wiring has hardened? I don’t want to be that person who can turn a good situation into a bad time. That is not my intention if my mood swings in another direction. And no, I’m not bi-polar.

I see promise in the path my life is taking, so far. And I’m lucky to have found someone that is looking beyond who I have become today. She is seeing the man I am, inside and out. I’m beginning to think I’m becoming a lucky man. #Grateful ?

I’m definitely a good guy. I love my boys; have a good job, people supporting my writing efforts, and someone who I know I can depend on by my side. Now I just need to get on board the wheel of life and allow it to travel the route god intendant it to go. The direction it rolls is one less traveled so I need to expect there will be fresh bumps on the road. #Life

When the ground becomes rough then I’ll search for the smooth rails of a train becoming the engineer of the large machine and glide myself into the path of least resistance. When those train tracks end I’ll board the nearest plane, grabbing the controls of the beast and pilot my way to higher altitudes as I cruise my happiness to my island of dreams. I will control the negativity and leave the pain and suffering behind. #planestrainsautomibiles

Wow. Sounds like I’m living in a perfect world of self-help. Of course I chuckle to myself. If being happy were this easy then who would need the Tony Robbins in this world? In all this thought process I spew out in this blog I just long to find me. #lost

I’m the happy-go-lucky guy who sees the glass half-full. I find enjoyment in a good movie. Who appreciates freshly popped popcorn. I can be appreciative to a good woman that provides comfort and understanding to my misgivings. I can see the beauty in nature and imagine what it’s like to live in the green side of earth.  I’m finally finding the wisdom in words from a good book. Sad, it only took me 40 years to find enjoyment in reading. #words

While life turns and moves forward I realize it will keep going even after I’m dead. So if it’s turning while I’m alive I should chase after the turning wheels and enjoy this thing because whether I decide to or not the human spirit will move without you.

I’m beginning anew and I should be grateful that sometimes life gives you a second chance at happiness, self-worth and pride. I don’t need a self-help guru to remind me of that.

#wisdom

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Countdown

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico at the local park

December 4th, 2013

School is a pleasant break for any parent. I’m no exception. It’s six hours of total bliss while my sons are in school. For the first three hours the pressure is off my back. And the feeling is amazing! I’m able to what I want in those three hours without any pressure.

Home Depot. Check. Doctor. Check. Breakfast. Check. Running around the house, naked. Check. But the bliss is slowly squeezed out by the last three hours of time. I countdown those remaining minutes like a man about to be executed. I feel like Tom Hanks in Captain Phillips with this pressure. Not too much pressure, however.

“Okay three hours until I pick my sons up. Maybe I should nap. I could sleep to restore my energy so I can take my boys to the park and we can run in the wide-open spaces. That sounds great! No wait. Thinking about open spaces the walls in the bedroom is so bare. I could paint the spare room.

I mean the time is perfect. The boys won’t get wet paint on them. I wouldn’t have to show them how to paint. I could just do it and be done before they get home. I mean painting is relaxing. And what better way to pain while I listen to music. Hmm music.

I could put on my headphones and listen to music. That would motivate me to walk around the block. Hell, I’ll take my dogs with me and exercise them, too! It’s perfect. Now where did I place those dog leashes?

Hmm. I didn’t place them by the door. They aren’t in the kitchen. Damn. No leashes. Well, I don’t want to walk by myself now, especially if I can’t walk my dogs. They’d be sad. Look at them wagging their tail. Sorry Champ, no leashes. I won’t walk. But since I’m in the kitchen I can make something to eat.

This way I can eat in peace without my boys climbing on me. I could actually drink a glass of whatever I wanted without sharing whatever it is with one of my sons. Food and drinks all to myself it’s almost a fantasy. Forget that. I’ll go out to lunch!

Why cook when I can go to a restaurant and enjoy a hot plate of food. To be served by someone else other then my own hand it quite tempting, Yes, a table for one. Give me everything on the menu! Sounds wonderful. But I would have to rush and eat in order to get a good spot in the student pick-up line. If I don’t get a good spot I’ll wait forever in line. Besides I want to beat that lady in her Ford SUV. I can’t let her get there first to pick up her kid. But I don’t want to rush lunch. Besides I have food here. I can eat here and relax while I watch television.

I’ll make peanut butter and jelly. It’s fast to make and I find it delicious. I can wash it down with a cold glass of milk. Wait! I can take a bit of my sandwich while simultaneously taking a gulp of milk. I can then swish it around in my mouth before I swallow. Sounds like a plan.

Peanut butter. Check. Jelly. Check. Milk, cold. Check. HBO on, check. Good movie on. Check. I’m ready to enjoy the rest of my time. Time? What time is it? Shit! I gotta go. Time to get my boys.” 

© Copyright 2013 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.

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Emptying Out the Closet of a Loved One Who Died

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico clowning around

November 20th, 2013

I was on my knees in my wife’s closet, staring at the mess that was laid before me. Clothes upon clothes were hanging on different varieties of hangers. I laughed when I thought about how this space is the United Nations of hangers.

I was finally cleaning out Mimie’s closet after more than a year since her death. I found comfort in her clothes being stored in our bedroom while I was trying to accept the fact that she was gone forever. Maybe the clothes in the closet gave me hope that all this despair was a dream. Well, I have accepted the fact I have to clean the closest. I still don’t think I’ve embraced that she is gone.

Even though no one had opened the closet door and gone inside for some time, the stale air didn’t taint her clothing. All the contents inside the room still smelled like her essence. Every breath of oxygen I inhaled from inside this dark cave smelled fresh and cool. The smells danced off my senses, sending my thoughts into a free-thinking frenzy. She was there inside with me.

The chilled air tickled my senses and brought me to life. The faint perfume she applied over her clothing and skin still lingered about the neatly folded sweaters and tops as if she were sitting there beside me. There are so many memories hanging around me.

There’s her plush pink tracksuit, the one she was on our plane flights. It was fashionable, warm, and very comfortable for our long flights to visit family in Colorado. She would wear it home from the hospital after giving birth to our oldest son, Nico. I push the material up to my face. The cool cotton indents into my face. I close my eyes and envision the last time I saw her in it.

I reach up and grab a sweater from the rack. I smile. She wore the sweater around the house to keep herself warm. I am hot-blooded, and it can never be cold enough for me. I love to keep the air conditioner at 70 degrees (21.1 Celsius). She hated it but understood my discomfort. She told me it was easier to warm up than cool down. I laughed because I used to tell her that she had no business growing up in Colorado since she had almost no tolerance for cold.

Resting in the corner, I notice a nice see-through top. It was flowery. She wore a yellow top under it. I recognized it immediately because the last thing she wore with me was captured in a photograph. It was our wedding anniversary. We went to the Grand Lux to eat. The meal was excellent. We shared some drinks and enjoyed the night off from being full-time parents. After we ate, we went to see Rise of the Planets of the Apes. Who would have thought she’d be gone 6 months later.

The memories flood into my mind, and they cause me to cry. The tears flow as if I was going through her death all over again the day she died. I’m thankful I wasn’t alone on this journey. I had someone there to help me pull myself through this ordeal. But I knew this was a task that I had to do alone. So, in the middle of my crying and her comforting me, I would ask her to leave so I could finish my journey as a man, a husband.

I sat there in the quiet closet. The soundless room was only broken as I sniffled and swallowed my tears. I did a lot of deep breathing and exhaling. I thumbed through her clothing, placing the garments in storage boxes. Some clothes are set aside for donations, most for storage in an air-conditioned facility. There, they will rest until her family can go through some of her things.

I never thought I could do the business of cleaning out this place, but I knew I had to. I had claimed a new bedroom and decided to make our old room our boys’ new room. It will be nice for them to laugh and play where their mom laid her head.

Just a few more articles of clothing that I have to pack away now. I have a lot of it stored in plastic bins. I can hear the echo of my voice off the bare walls of the closest. It’s almost empty now. Soon, everything will be replaced. I suppose that’s how life goes. Empty out the closet of old memories while filling it again with new ones. It was time to free her soul. You can’t keep a life living in the closest. I must set her free to unshackle my emotions so that I can live free myself. 

800 words

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© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

The Halloween Gourd, a Halloween Story

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Left to right: Nico Sugar, Christopher pumping carving

October 21st, 2013

We carved the pumpkin for a Halloween fright, but little did we know that the jack-o-lantern would wake up in the wee hours of the night. It must have been the spookiness of the evening sky filled with dread and despair from all the trick-or-treaters lurking out in the night. They filled their bags with lots of yummy candy and shrieked with delight from all the scary getups they witnessed.

Just outside my front door was a house light, that was lit. The light was a beacon, a signal to the freakish ghouls and happy children that candy was to be had. The kids would come up, knock on the door, ring the doorbell, and request a treat while showing their grotesque disguise. As I placed the candy in their bags, I'd look ever so closely and examine their costume to see if I knew who the little boy or girl was. But they were so well covered, and their attire was freakish. I was always curious about who they were because their costumes were so clever. But it didn't matter if they couldn't make the kid out under that custom because the one they should have been worried about was the Halloween Gourd that rested just beside the entrance of my house. That creature, disguised as a pumpkin, knew who they were, and he would later seek them out before Halloween was over! 

"Trick-or-Treat," a group of kids shouted while they rang my doorbell and banged on my door.

I was relieved since this last group of boys and girls would take the remaining treats from my candy bowl.

"Here you go, kids. Remember, don't eat all the candy in one night," I said.

I shut the door and turned off the light. This shop was closed until next year's Halloween fright.

The kids ran off to the next house. The remaining light that lingered on my front porch was consumed by the thickness of the black night. My night was complete. It was time for a drink, but the Halloween Gourd was just getting started. His carved-out eyes began to flicker through the candle light he was alive. 

The orange pumpkin skin began to ripple as the gourd came to life. The pumpkin's head started tiling back and then rolling to the sides as if stretching from a long night of sleep. His lifeless eyes shifted mischievously as he began to manically think of his next victim. The pumpkin rattled and shook. The gyration of the head started to give birth to a body. The gourd's facial expressions showed the appearance of pushing with all his might while his legs began to form, and he would rise upright. Higher and higher, he would raise his growth, being fed by the dead.

"Arrgh!" he gurgled while he looked more human. If it weren't for the pumpkin head, he'd fit right in with the human race. The candlelight inside his head gave a hideous glimpse into a mindless creature. He would search and maim without a care, so all the trick-a-treats better beware.

The Halloween Gourd took his first steps towards the street, looking for death. He would search for the last little girl, who lingered too long by the door. The wind picked up quickly and howled through the holes in the gourd's ugly face, but the candle remained eerily in place.

The sounds of the kid's laughter drew his attention as he moved ever so cleverly, mingled in with the other Halloween-dressed population. He moved closer to his target. But she was unaware of his intentions while she looked in her candy bag for life's guilty pleasures. She continued to look down without paying much attention to the large 6-foot man lurking in her direction.

The gourd reached out with his thin, slimy hands as pumpkin seeds littered the ground as they fell from his body. The sound of his head was making an eerie noise as he tilted and contorted while moving within her grasp.

"Hey, what's that!" a kid in her group shouted, "Mary, run for your life. There's a Halloween creature ready to eat you!"

Mary took her head out of the bag and saw the permanent evil grin of the Halloween Gourd. He paused for a moment, unsure what to do, before attempting to take her along with him.

"Get him!" Someone shouted in the group.

The yelling caused the mass dash towards Mary's aid. The gourd hissed, stammered, and cussed the children as they ran his way. Mary was too in shock to move out of his fatal approach. Hence, the boys and girls reached into their bags and began to throw lots of candy, even the good ones, at him, causing him to turn back and run in the opposite direction.

It wasn't in the gourd's nature to retreat, but he had no choice but to hide himself. He knew there would be other Halloweens to seek out others to fill his homicidal needs. 

So the next time you carve your pumpkin, you better hope it didn't come from the seeds of the Halloween Gourd, which grows out of the pumpkin patch picked for the stores. He may be the one who decides to carve you instead. 

© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

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875 words.

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Top Guns

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico in an observation bubble at a science museum 

October 23rd, 2013

Like 2 fighter jets, my sons excel their speed, while they intertwine themselves in their mad dash to absolutely nowhere; they’re ready for a dogfight. I have no idea why they view all flat areas that we encounter on foot or when we get out of the car like takeoff and landing strips. And boy do I wish I had the afterburners to keep up with their bat-turns and not be such a Gomer.

I chase them down with all my might exerting all the energy I have with one powerful thrust however it’s like they already planned their fighter pilot moves by zigzagging into 2 different directions causing me to choose which path to take and which one of the bogeys I should keep in my sights. Since I’m lacking a good wingman to help me on this mission I’m on a sortie of my own. When did I become the Bandit?

I choose the one son that I have padlocked and know I have the best angle to zero in on his vapor trail and commit a full combat attack on him while I continuously check my six and make sure my other son doesn’t fall below the hard deck, even though I know I’m playing by their rules of engagement. I really have to keep my head on a swivel. This ain’t no knife fight in a phone booth.

The funny thing is that I know that when we arrive to our final destination they are waiting for me to unbuckle them because they’re ready planned their next hop. And yet, time and time again, they succeed in their dubious feat. My fun meter is definitely pegged.

It wasn’t always a game of ACM (air combat maneuvering) with us. There was a time that they actually listened to the Air Boss. They still do, but I have to raise my voice a few optics in order to let them know that I’m serious about their booming ways. I’m trying to not be so vocal now because I’m no nugget and yelling at them to STOP! won’t be a quick fix.

My 2 sons are in a section all their own. And when they get spooled up who knows how far they will run from me that will work out all of their energy. My body isn’t old. I do have energy to keep stride with their rambunctious speed of heat. But they love to push the envelope. What child doesn’t?

I love that my kids play in a world all their own. They don’t have a care for video games or much in-door activities if it doesn’t involve some sort of physical exertion. They have the need for speed and love to have me bounce on them when they bait me out of the gates of my cocoon. They are my go juice that keeps me young. I need them because I’m no skipper without my fighter jocks and I love them with all my heart. Bravo Zulu boys, you’re my Top Guns.

Published on October 23rd, 2013

© The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto is a registered copyright, 2013
"All rights reserved"

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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.

Finding Myself

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Left to right: Christopher, Captain Imperfecto and Nico Fantasyland Magic Kingdon

October 12, 2013

I’m trying to gather myself together out of the pieces of me that have broken when my wife died. My rebuilding isn’t an easy process since the pieces of me are no longer shards but tiny mashed pieces that are entwined, with the loss of my twins. The crashing of these 2 worlds has created an even bigger mess of mass emotions that has brought my soul into torment. But I’m sorting it all out the best I can as I rebuild my life from those unspeakable losses of the past 6 years.

I didn’t know what it took to make myself happy after all those failed years because it seems as if I blocked out the pain and became numb to the heartache and heartbreak. Hell, did I ever know what it took to be happy in my lifetime? Have I walked through my life being a miserable human being all this time? I say no. I have always showed happiness on the exterior. I guess I was crying on the inside. What am I a fucking clown?

I’m searching my soul to find that one silver lining that will be my salvation. I deserve, as an individual, to follow that sliver of hope without worry of hurting those that may want a piece of me in the process on my journey of self-worth.

But how do I not look like a selfish bastard by ignoring those who also crave help and desire in their life? I suppose since I’m in pain, myself, it’s hard to fathom others misery, even though I know suffering is out there. But ones own suffering lends a blind eye and places the other eye squarely on my own sadness. Still, I do let reality in and I absorb the horror of other people’s lives through another one of my 5 senses. Sounds like I’m a good case for a head shrink to handle.

I wrote my blog when it made sense that I could possibly help others, including myself. I can’t take full credit because I’m no saint when it came to putting myself out there with this blog. Insightful people who thought my writing could help others cope; with there own losses in-life, pushed me to keep writing.

But aren’t you supposed to feel fuller inside by helping someone less fortunate then yourself in times of their heavy low? I cross that threshold of emotions every time I decide to place my own emotions out in the cyber world via www.captainimperfecto.com . It truly is a point of no return when I post a blog about my feelings. I tend not to go back and re-read it once it’s published. Those emotions can run deep and the urge to delete it can be strong. And even though I should feel fulfilled with knowledge others can satisfy their need for help by reading my blogs; I still feel empty inside.  

The blog still fulfills some needs I desire to self-help, but I want to feel I deserve pleasure in life beyond these words. I have not mastered that feeling of success, yet. I know I have earned fulfillment and gratitude that you are reading this. However, I deserve to happy. WE, deserve to be happy. I earned my Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

I want to feel special with someone. This could be my next step with helping myself. It’s not easy to write that here in an open forum because I’m still reeling from the open wounds from the loss of my wife. I think the reality of the situation is that this person is leading me to happiness because she is one person that is making me smile. But my heart is weak.

I need to heal my wounded heart. I need my heart to fill with confidence. The healing process should allow myself to let my guard down. But I need time rather than to hurry up. I know myself; I have to completely close the gap before I destroy what little joy that has entered in my life.

I’m having a hard time finding me. Maybe, I should let her help guide me. She has amazing joy and an incredible demeanor. If I close my eyes and just let go of my lifeline and follow her lead, I could maybe, just maybe, begin finding me.

Published on October 12th, 2013

© The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto is a registered copyright, 2013
"All rights reserved"

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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto ©  is also a Registered Copyright with the Office of the Registers, United States of America, TX 7-611-138

Adversity When No One Else Cares

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Fron: Christopher rear: Nico goofing around

October 2nd, 2013

Sometimes, you must push yourself forward when facing adversity threatening your way of life because time isn't fulfilling its job by healing everything. No one cares more than you when times are wrong because, deep down, friends, family, and people are just happy they aren't living in your situation. So, you better start pushing through your adversity.

Why am I going through this? What the hell did I do to deserve this shit in my life. This isn't fair. I just want to be expected, not the strong one.

Now, I'm not being pessimistic about the human spirit. People are at their best when disasters strike, like natural disasters or acts of violence threatening our way of life. In times such as those, you will find people who will go above and beyond in harsh conditions, utilizing their training and skills to help those who are unfortunately affected by such travesty. But when you are alone, especially in the wee hours of a dark, lonely night, your circumstances can change while your thoughts run amuck.

It was nice to talk to my family today. They brought me comfort, but I am alone now. I'm alone in my bed without the comfort of someone understanding this intense sadness and why I'm crying.

As individuals, when we face our own horrific situations, most of the time, we are alone when the confrontation attacks our thought process. No one, not friends, family, or strangers, will know the depths of your self-loathing and unhappiness because it is our hell to bear and no one else.

I am so fucking mad!

Most of the time, people will not understand why you cannot overcome life's circumstances. They only wish for you to act normal so they can feel normal. But it's hard, damn hard, to control emotions that are conjured up from the depths of you. I couldn't even explain the feelings of unhappiness that I never experienced before when I tried to reason with myself. Or even knew those intensely bad feelings existed in the fibers of my DNA.

Okay, Chris, get through this day the best you can. Fight through it. Take your life, day by day, without thinking of what tomorrow will bring.

I never thought I would be in a situation that I could not get out of until I lost my wife. It was more difficult than losing my twins, Sophia and Gabriella because my wife shared the grief of their loss with me. We could relate to the emotions we experienced together and lean on each other for support and comfort when all others returned to their daily lives. That support, no matter how miserable we were when we dealt with it, allowed us to cope with the intense sadness.

Thoughts of holding each other tight as we lay in bed and cried ourselves to sleep in the late nights and early mornings helped heal our souls that later reality would burst out of the stitching we sewed during our grieving.

When my wife passed away, it felt more than just intense sadness or grief. The situation of her loss felt as if life was a bully, ran up to me as fast as it could, with a leaping kick to my gut. The force of the kick was so powerful it knocked the wind out of me. My knees buckled, and I went straight to the ground, unable to move. I was a fucking mess. I couldn't move for months.

If my kids didn't need me, I wouldn't move from this spot on my floor. This would be my home.

Over time, I knew eventually, I would have to push forward with all my might to survive this feeling of overwhelming emotion. Maybe I had to go it alone without assistance to face the demons that I would encounter on my travels to the beginning of healing. I can see some light. I am pushing. I am running. I am diving through my adversity so that I can pursue a life again. 

Hi, I'm Chris. You're beautiful. I felt compelled to talk to you. Want to get a coffee?

Published on: October 2nd, 2013

690 Words

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© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print.