It was late one Saturday night when I sent a text to my friends to rally them to The Cove. Little did I know, the goddamn Cicero of drunk texting was lurking somewhere behind four drinks and about to make his debut. Instead of Let’s Cove, my text read, Leta Comice. Not crucial to this epiphany was the fact that I don’t speak a word of latin. Also unimportant, is that this text wasn’t actually in latin. But hey, who cares? You? Thrill non supra grammaticos?Blow me. What is this, Iron Age Italy or just the Classics Department picnic? That’s what I thought.
- “Probo fornicor?” Let’s fuck? Otherwise known as the Antiquus Vocatio Bootius (The Classic Booty Call).