I decided to read the books that were written about me, and it makes me a bit glad I'm here. At least the worst I've got is that I met a gargoyle on the New York Public Library and he likes to follow me around. He's invisible, of course, to everyone but me, so it looks a bit like I'm a crazy person, but I'm rather used to that at this point.
Maybe some young people want to join me for an end of summer trip to Coney Island?