Most of all I love those people who come up to me totally earnestly to ask, Are you a bear?
Ideally I would let out a deafening roar. Tear off one of their arms. But evidently I am insufficiently bear.
If honesty was really my first policy I'd say, "Hell, no. I'm trying to be convincingly human -- but it doesn't seem to be working, does it?"
Of course I am honored to be associated with the bears, and it seems to me far more illustrious to be mistaken for a bear than, say, a senator.
It's true that I like my fish best raw. And that I try to keep as much of my face covered in hair as possible. However it is utter presumption and self-inflation to presume to call myself a bear.
Though certainly I accept that it would be easier to love me, if one first imagined that magnificent animal.