Does anyone know how easy it is to cancel an orgy? Or any number of the fun things I had planned for the next few days?
Carole is no longer camping.
And it’s not because of her voice, or the germs she carries around in her disease-ridden frame. It’s not because she’s too tired, or not tired enough. It’s not because she doesn’t want some alone time where she can just enjoy her own company.
The weather has conspired against her, or at least it had at the point when all the plans were cancelled. After that, everything appears to be alright after all and the weather doesn’t look that bad. So she could go. But her going camping is dependent on her dad already having the tent up there for her, which he now won’t do because they won’t be there either.
Basically, and there’s no easy way to say this.
It’s entirely buggered up my plans to sit on the couch, game in my pants, eat pizzas and watch Killjoys.
Now I’ll have to play boardgames with her and hang out and chat and watch TV not in my pants. I might get to eat pizza, but I bet we don’t. It’ll be frowned upon. And she’s right. It is a bad thing to do.
But equally… that’s part of the fun of being home alone. He even gets pizza in the film Home Alone. It’s the whole point of the movie. You’re at home, alone, you order pizza.
That whole Wet Bandits plot is incidental to the fact that you can chill out and eat shit when there’s no-one around to supervise you.