you know what would be really great? to just be an augur in ancient rome and get prophecies from birds. just get to hang out in my ceremonial clothes looking for vultures all day and every once in a while say something profound when i see a sparrow or w/e, and nobody will bother me because if they piss me off i can just tell them that they can’t lead a military expedition against the gauls because my sacred chickens don’t like them. what a life
some crusty old roman general: please augur, consult your chickens, for i desire to wage the greatest of wars against the wretched, barbaric carthaginians
me, hanging out with my pigeons, remembering last week when he cut me in line at the market and bought the red figure vase i wanted for his 8th country villa: unfortunate
