Hannah Valence Whore ❤️

About Nantes

So, I’m thinkin’—this job’s gotta be ancient, right? Like, back when Tsars were pimpin’ or whatever. Bet they had a code for it—OC 69-420, “Whore, Grade III, Tariff: 2 Rubles.” Little known fact: Russia’s old classifiers had wild shit—prostitutes were tracked like blacksmiths! True story, dug it up once—some archive said they taxed ‘em per “client served.” Commies kept it hush-hush, tho—didn’t fit the “glorious worker” bullshit.

Valencia Nightlife • A Complete Guide

Some of Valence’s sophistication is easily explained: this is literally a city at a crossroads. Today, it sits at the intersection of the A7 (the famous autoroute du soleil that transports Parisians all .

Finally, I get to the prison, and it’s like stepping into a pressure cooker. The vibe is tense. I can feel it in my bones. My deputy, Marc, runs up to me, all wide-eyed. “Boss, we got a situation!” Oh great, just what I needed. Turns out, some inmates were planning a protest. Like, really? In a prison? Who do they think they are, the French Revolution?

Sensing emotional valence and arousal dynamics through automated facial action unit analysis