Some... many, actually... are still convinced that I am a complete flaming rat bastard. They are correct. (Well, I'm not currently on fire, I'm not, technically a rodent, and my parents were married. In all other ways, however, the metaphor holds true.)
Others, like several hundred moms of sick babies, are convinced that I am an angel in a very bad disguise. (Have you SEEN the hat?) They are also correct.
Oh, how I love the paradox of dichotomy.
I am a mystery wrapped in an enema.