Ave, people of your so-called internet! It is I, Publius Clodius Pulcher, Roman Politician and part-time sex god, here to tell you why you should make a TV series about the shenanigans me and my fellow noble Romans (possibly) got up to.

We Romans did not have your "television" or "internet" but we did have fake news, so it's probably impossible for you people to tell what's true and what isn't. But I'll tell you some of the rumors going around, and you tell me if you think they'd make for entertaining viewing.

Let me put this one to bed right now: I did not, and never have, given my sister Clodia the business. And if I did, you can't prove it. And if you did somehow come up with some evidence, I could send some of my friends from the collegia around to discuss it with you, and maybe you'd come to see my point of view. If you know what I mean. Look, Clodia is hot AF, and I may be about the only guy in Rome that hasn't boinked her, unless you count her husband Metellus - what with her *ahem* busy schedule it's unlikely she has time for him. She won't ever tell me for sure if the poet Catullus ever got there, but if you read his poetry, there she is staring out at you from the page. But no matter what that insufferable nerd Cicero has to say, my relations with my sister have never been of a carnal nature. He's just salty because his wife Terentia thinks HE wants to bang Clodia, which he probably does, and which he possibly even has - it's not like he'd admit it in all those soppy letters he's constantly writing. But Cicero has to talk down Clodia in public because otherwise he'd have trouble at home- have you SEEN Terentia? She could break him in half.

Anyway, did you ever hear about the time when the women had their all-woman party/religious thing at Caesar's house, and I dressed up as a woman and sneaked into it for a little ave-vale with Caesar's wife Pompeia? You wouldn't think he'd mind, since they say he swings the other way - we even call him the Queen of Bythnia because they say he and the King of Bythinia got along very well. Like, REALLY well.Anyway, It didn't work out with Pompeia because they caught me and threw me out, but listen people, I was the biggest name in Rome for MONTHS when they put me on trial. It might not have been the trial of the century - that particular century had a hell of a lot of trials- but it was definitely the event of the year.

I still think Lucullus only wanted to prosecute because of that time he was out east with an army, and I convinced all his soldiers that following orders is lame and that they should try not following them instead. They tried it and liked it so much they wrecked Luke's whole campaign, and he's still salty. Some people just can't let stuff go. Anyway, the jury decided I was innocent (which is nice because the charge carried the death penalty). The fact that so many jurors immediately bought new houses or slaves or threw down such fat stacks at the racetrack was just a coincidence, honestly. They probably found buried treasure under the courthouse.

Let's talk a little more about Caesar. We didn't get along, but the guy was definitely a major stud. So there was this time when there was a debate in the Senate about what to do with some guys who tried to overthrow the government, which at this period of history was happening about every twenty minutes. Caesar was on one side of the debate, and that insufferable twit Cato was on the other, and right in the middle of the debate somebody sneaked into the Senate and handed Caesar a note. "Aha!" says Cato, "you want to play nice with these traitors because you're a traitor yourself!" But Caesar gave the note to Cato and it turned out it wasn't treason, it was a love note from Servilia. That's right, not only did the whole Senate find out that Caesar was clean, it also found out that Cato's sister was putting out for Caesar. Caesar ended up losing the debate, but you got to admit "shut up, I'm doing your sister" is a pretty sick flex. And it got even sicker some years later when everybody was talking about how Servilia was pimping her daughter Junia to Caesar. Nothing like keeping it in the family, I always say.

Wait, I don't always say that and you can't prove I do.

Look, I could go on for months, and if there's any other Rome-ophiles on this internet of yours, they can probably put more examples in the comments. But the point is, you could make a TV show just of sex conspiracy theories from Roman politics go to ten seasons without even trying, and one of the main characters would definitely have to be my beautiful self. What's not to like?