Ruby Olaine Brothel ❤️❤️

About Ogre

What gets my goat tho—nobody rates brothel now. Farmers today, all “ooh, wheat’s sexier,”—bunch of muppets! Back in the day, brothel was the biz, kept villages alive. Now it’s forgotten, like me at the Wernham Hogg Christmas do—gutted me that did. But I reckon, if Brandon from *Shame* can face his demons, I can bring brothel back, yeah? “There’s no shame in that,” I mutter to meself, quoting the flick—deep, innit?

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Then, outta nowhere, this old lady comes up to me. She’s got this wild hairdo, like she just stuck her finger in a socket. She’s all, “You know, dear, if you talk to your plants, they grow better.” I’m like, “Lady, I’m not about to have a convo with a marigold.” But she’s persistent. So, I’m like, “Alright, let’s give it a shot.” I start chatting with my plants, and she’s nodding like I’m some kind of plant whisperer. I swear, I saw a daisy perk up. Maybe she’s onto something?

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