The Stars and the Cookie Jar

My father is dead. He is a known quantity. He is unequivocal. And I'm getting the paperwork for it.

I think I can go ahead and get married now.

Thank goodness my children will have enough grandfathers on darthrami's side that they won't have to ask questions. One of 'em's crappy, but he's not crappy in that convicted-sex-offender way.

*spins and twirls*

I feel so much better. My paranoia about his maybe-possibly-still-being-alive has been quelled in no uncertain surliness by the semi-lovely people at NYDOCS.

Whee!

ETA: It's Hart Island, not Hart's Island. Did anybody else know that?