Reasonable Concern?

Eagan has this long-running joke that he thinks I'm a serial killer. Or at least will become one in the near future. It possibly got started because I know way too much information about serial killers? And now he's convinced that I have the ability to pull off being a serial killer and getting away with it (compliment taken?).

Here I am standing outside my college roommate's window in my pajamas. The rugby shirt makes me look like I'm 12 years old.

Anyway, today I sent Eagan an e-mail giving him an update on the Brazil-Chile World Cup game. I meant to type "the player dribbled around the goalie and shot on an open net."

I get an e-mail back from Eagan and he said, "'and shot on an open neck' -- are your serial killer thoughts coming through your subconscious?"

I laughed and replied that I was multitasking at the time and made a simple typo, conceding, "though, that is a pretty funny mess-up..."

Eagan said, "Funny is one word for it. Wearing a gorget is another."

I said, "Should I be more concerned that you feel like you need to wear a gorget in my presence...or that you know what a gorget is?!?