To the question Where is my prince on a white horse?)) Where are you????)) asked by the author Poke your head in the best answer is Where is the princess
Reply from Osokor[guru]
Comrade Prince, get off your horse!
Let's sit down and chat privately...
And your horse is of some strange color.
The consequences of dry cleaning... everything is clear...
You come here with what interest -
From your not near abroad?
What are you saying! Princess to you
Needed to marry her...
Well, do you have a shortage of princesses?
The insidious dragons ate everyone...
Well, okay, okay. How can you not jump here?
Look for your wife beyond the distant cordons!
So, this is your fourth year in the saddle?
I look: the clothes are frayed,
The frill is covered in dust, the cuffs are washed,
And you yourself... are... a little bruised.
Nothing. It's even better that way.
But you can immediately become masculine!
And then another one will gallop - all in a plume,
Perfume, cambric, lace and rhinestones...
But we don’t need people like that, even with money!
We don’t even have a reception like that.
In cambric-plume-perfume we can do it ourselves
Dress up... well, when for etiquette...
In short, this is exactly what you need!
By the way, I’ll introduce myself to you for the sake of decency:
A real princess at that
Quality certificate available.
Well, naturally, fainting with happiness...
Not strong... but where else could I get something else...
Matryona! Glashka! Paint your lips urgently!
If he comes to his senses, there will be a wedding right away.
Oh, the princes, sorry, they sorted it out,
their range was limited.
But you don't need a horse. He, alas, is unlikely
let it be white, a rival for the prince.
But how he neighs, squints with his lilac eye,
how he beats his hoof, how he chases flies,
how seductively he wiggles his pelvis,
Sorry, croup - it's just breathtaking.
And the princes are a bit small these days,
and their exterior is alas and ah
and stupid, and, in general, not rich,
and sales don’t even understand poetry.
Oh, Lord, well, give me a Man,
not a prince, but I beg you,
so that he could (well, at least half)
Compete with the horse...
Reply from Valery Grachev[guru]
Is it possible to drive up in a white Mercedes?)).
Reply from European[guru]
- Oh, who are you? - Anya was surprised when she saw at the door a man of about thirty, nondescript in appearance, in a worn raincoat, a dirty knitted cap and with stubble on his face.
- Hello, Anya! I am Your Prince on a White Horse! - the man said with a captivatingly sincere look and he smelled of fumes.
-Where is the horse? - Anya grinned.
“He’s sitting in the elevator, keeping watch so that he doesn’t leave,” the Prince answered just as sincerely, “Anya, get ready, we’re going to my palace right now.”
- Why should I go somewhere with you? - Anya asked restrainedly.
- So you’ve been waiting for me all your life! For me to come and pick you up.
- You are confusing yourself with someone! - Anya tried to close the door, but the Prince managed to substitute his foot.
- Anya, just no nonsense! I don't have time for all this nonsense! Get dressed, let's go.
- Fuck you! - Anya was able to close the door.
- Stuffed fool! - The Prince knocked on the door with his fist. - Why did you dream then? Without waiting for an answer, the Prince turned and entered the elevator.
- You're rude to her! - said the White Horse.
- I wanted it in a good way, but you see how! - the Prince muttered with annoyance.
“And I wouldn’t even open it to you - all dirty, unshaven,” the White Horse spat on the floor.
- Tired of everything! Every day these fools with thin braids and pimples and still need to find an approach to each! And I’m already exhausted, you know, I’m exhausted! Just three years ago I could make jokes and charm, but now... - The prince waved his hand tiredly.
- Tie it up. “It’s time,” said the White Horse and put out his cigarette on the wall of the elevator.
- What are you talking about? ! There are still so many of them, but there are only two of us, you and me. If we.give up. , who will do this?
- Okay, master, hush it up! Do you have money for the bus?
- I have it, but how are you?
- And again I’ll pretend that I accidentally got on the bus.
The prince stooped out of the entrance, and behind him, limping, walked his White Horse.
Do you love him? - and again our plot returns to the living room where it all began. This time the King and his old friend sat opposite each other. -Have you decided to brainwash me as a caring daddy? - Hank grinned and took a sip of wine. His hands were shaking a little. “No, but I’ll really tire you out with lectures,” Elijah never stopped staring at his interlocutor, “So you love him?” The room was illuminated by the Sun, which looked out from behind the window. Somewhere behind the door, Connor was listening intently, shifting from foot to foot, and servants were running even further, preparing for the arrival of guests. It was an early, warm morning in the courtyard, with neither a cloud nor an icy wind in the sky. Wonderful weather, but let's go back to the living room. The king had just gotten out of bed, so he was sitting in a spacious robe. As for Hank, he was dressed according to all the rules of an aristocratic society: styled hair, a tailored suit, patent leather shoes. The family was preparing for the arrival of the King in the North with his family. “Elijah, I’m not some kind of brat, so tell me directly what exactly you need from me.” “I asked a question, but you still haven’t answered,” the King leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs, “I’m waiting.” “I don’t know,” Anderson exhaled heavily and covered his eyes with his hand, leaning on the armrest. - What? In what sense do you not know? Hank, this is my son we're talking about, so stop being such a fuss. - I really don’t know, Elijah! - the man instantly drained the entire glass of alcohol, - Damn. It's complicated. Perhaps the fact that he is your son complicates everything. - Is there something that doesn’t suit you about me? If you say it’s my wife, I’ll hit you,” Kamski frowned. He had nothing against Hank, quite the opposite. Knowing him, the King was even to some extent happy with such a match for his son. - What kind of nonsense are you talking about? You may not be a gift, I won’t hide it, but Chloe is beyond praise. - Then what's the problem? Do you love? No? - Why are you so meticulous? - Hank leaned back, not taking his intense gaze off the King. - Because you are an idiot. There's always some kind of drama with you. And instead of explaining yourself or asking for help from people close to you, you are driving yourself into your own grave,” His Majesty began to be overcome by long-forgotten feelings of resentment and betrayal. -Are you starting again? Have you decided to try on the role of a grumpy wife now? - Anderson began to breathe deeper to calm down, but it turned out rather ineptly. - Why the hell were you silent? Why didn't you come to me? Hank, we're friends and soon to be family, stop acting like you can handle this alone. - Decided to remind me that if I didn’t have friends like you, I would have been rotting in a ditch long ago?! Yes, Elijah, I am an insignificant worm who can’t do anything without the King’s protection! Satisfied?! - the man did not notice how he suddenly stood up and clenched his fists in anger. Connor heard his scream and ran into the room. - You always pretended to be a dying swan! Hank, I accidentally learned about your grief from the servants! What the hell is a worm?! You are my friend, you idiot. If you really wanted to be a poor little boy who was abandoned by everyone, then you obviously won’t be able to do it! Because now there’s no way I’ll leave such a blockhead like you! Hank, when people go through grief, they come to other people to find support and not rot alive from heartache. So why did you act differently? - The king remained sitting in place, looking up at his friend. Hank didn't answer. His face turned purple with anger, and his hands began to ache from prolonged exertion. Connor stepped closer, taking his lover's hand in his trembling hand. - That's enough, father. We’re leaving, you warn mom,” he began to lightly push Anderson towards the door, and the man silently followed him. -Are you just going to leave? As always, Anderson. You are running away from the problem, as you always have done. At least you're good at something! - The king shouted the last phrase, getting up from his chair. Hank could not stand it and attacked the King with his fists. The fight was terrible: Connor's screams, blood stains everywhere and a frightened Chloe who came running in response to the scream. Soon they were barely separated. - What happened here?! - The Queen was furious. Connor sat next to Hank on the floor and wiped the blood from his face, maids fluttered around the King, - Elijah Kamsky, explain yourself! - She stood opposite her husband, furious and disheveled. - There's nothing to explain here. We quarreled a little. And you made a big deal out of this, I don’t understand what, - Kamsky Sr. sat without raising his eyes, and felt guilty before the Queen, after all, the guests would arrive soon, and he started a fight with Hank, and also broke his nose. He hissed in pain as they began to treat his wounds. - Oh, you had a little quarrel, and I made a big deal, I don’t understand what? So? - Chloe felt that she couldn’t stand it now. - Well, we got into a fight, what’s wrong?! “The king finally looked into his wife’s eyes and immediately received a resounding slap in the face. - What's wrong?! Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw your blood? A frightened son? And your fight, as if you want to kill each other?! - Chloe was breathing heavily, not a trace remained of her hair styling, her hair was completely unraveled, and the once beautiful formal dress was stained with blood, “I’ll talk to you later,” she turned and walked up to Hank, who was sitting on the floor with the prince . - What do you tell me? - Mom, don't! - Connor leaned forward a little, preparing for a squabble with his mother. - Connor, you better shut up now. - But... - Anderson stood up silently, blocking the prince. “I have nothing to say,” all the anger was gone, the soul seemed to have found long-awaited peace, and he calmly spoke to the Queen, ready for anything. In this fight, Anderson finally got rid of everything that weighed him down and did not allow him to live. He no longer hated Elijah, and was even grateful to him. Feeling Connor's hand on his shin, Anderson was happier than ever. The prince was very worried, and since his legs were still shaking, he couldn’t get up after what he saw, so he simply hugged Hank lightly as a sign of support. “I’m sorry,” tears began to flow down Chloe’s face, her voice trembled and her hands shook, “I’ve wanted to tell you this for so long.” I so wanted to see you that day and tell you how sorry I was. You've been through a lot, and we weren't there. Sorry, Hank. I’m very... - her head slowly lowered from the overwhelming sadness, - I’m very sorry... - Anderson was taken aback by this and stepped forward, hugging his old friend. The Queen was strong and always believed that she could handle a lot, but when she learned that Hank's son had died, her imagination began to imagine the death of her own children. She felt so bad, she wanted to find him and tell him that everything would be fine, that she and Elijah would not leave him, but fear for their children did not let them go even a step. And now she could finally be calm. She calmed down and raised her head. “Now everything will change, Hank, but first, a little lesson from the expectant mother,” the sound of a good slap was heard in the room, “This will happen again, and you can safely prepare a place in the cemetery.” Because I'm not going to constantly worry about people like you and my husband. I’ll just eliminate the cause of my anxiety and that’s all,” the Queen’s mood lifted, and she again began to behave at ease, “Clean up here and put these two in order,” having given orders, she walked away with a light gait. Hank chuckled and finally looked at Connor. His appearance clearly wanted better: a roaring face, tousled hair and frightened eyes. The prince was still sitting in the same position, and his legs were already beginning to go numb. Anderson extended his hand to help him get up, but Connor, unable to keep his balance, fell on top of him. After a sharp release of adrenaline, the body felt like cotton wool, the heart continued to beat quickly, and the legs gave way. - Why are you so scared? - Anderson smiled, picking up the prince in his arms. “Hank...” the prince pressed himself against him, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face in his neck, “I was so scared, Hank,” a new wave of hysteria swallowed him, forcing him to choke on his own tears. - Do you see what you have brought my son to? - the King commented tiredly. “I can say the same about your wife,” Anderson turned towards one of the maids, “Where is your bathroom?” “Follow me,” they walked towards the door. - So you love him? - Elijah asked. - How did you get it? I love! Are you satisfied? - Hank answered over his shoulder. - You love badly! “It’s not for you to decide,” the King’s laughter and the creaking of the door were heard throughout the room. But the day has just begun.
Oh, who are you? - Anya was surprised when she saw at the door a man of about thirty, nondescript in appearance, in a worn raincoat, dirty knitted hat and with stubble on his face.
Hello, Anya! I am Your Prince. “On the White Horse,” the man said with a captivatingly sincere look, and he smelled of fumes.
-Where is the horse? - Anya grinned.
“He’s sitting in the elevator, keeping watch so that he doesn’t leave,” the Prince answered just as sincerely, “Anya, get ready, we’re going to my palace right now.”
- Why should I go somewhere with you? - Anya asked restrainedly.
- So you’ve been waiting for me all your life! For me to come and pick you up.
- You are confusing yourself with someone! - Anya tried to close the door, but the Prince managed to substitute his foot.
- Anya, just no nonsense! I don't have time for all this nonsense! Get dressed, let's go.
- Fuck you! - Anya was able to close the door.
- Stuffed fool! - The Prince knocked on the door with his fist. - Why did you dream then?
Without waiting for an answer, the Prince turned and entered the elevator.
- You're rude to her! - said the White Horse.
- I wanted it in a good way, but you see how! - the Prince muttered with annoyance.
“And I wouldn’t even open it to you - all dirty, unshaven,” the White Horse spat on the floor.
- Tired of everything! Every day these fools have thin braids and pimples, and each one still needs to be approached! And I’m already exhausted, you know, I’m exhausted! Just three years ago I could make jokes and charm, but now... - The prince waved his hand tiredly.
“It’s time to quit,” said the White Horse and put out his cigarette on the wall of the elevator.
- What are you talking about?! There are still so many of them, but there are only two of us, you and me. If we give up, who will take care of it?
- Okay, master, hush it up! Do you have money for the bus?
- I have it, but how are you?
- And again I’ll pretend that I accidentally got on the bus.
The prince, stooping, came out of the entrance, and behind him, limping, walked his White Horse...
The door closed.
With stiff fingers, Anya clicked the lock and squatted down. Tears treacherously rose in my throat, oh... I wish I could cry. Damn you tears heard?! I won't cry. I won't!
On the contrary, her own Reflection from the mirror looked soullessly from the wall - the shadow of the one who was now unsuccessfully struggling with tears.
- Why are you crying, the prince came again? - asked Reflection? Well, how little are you, this is your first time or what?! Twenty-five again! How many of them have there already been?! And did anyone turn out to be real?! They spoke beautiful words, made promises... Just believe it, just believe it! And like a fool, you believed, yes, yes! Just like a fool! How many times do I have to tell you?! Get these fairy tales out of your head! Although... what if it’s Him and this is all, the truth and the words about love and the fact that the whole world is now in front of us,” Reflection said ironically. - And Dura! She was a fool to believe it! Every time you believed, they left! There are none! You see, no!!! There are no Princes, and even with a talking White Horse! This was invented for fools like you! And you are waiting! You hope and wait! And every time you get punched in the nose, and still you wait...
Tears rolled from her eyes, she cried and listened... And the Reflection cried.
After all, everything is true, every single word is true! And these stupid tears... Just think he called himself a Prince. And who was it?! Unshaven, smelling of fumes and wearing a stupid hat!
For some reason, thinking about the hat made it even worse...
Suddenly the Reflection froze... What is it? The sobbing stopped. Where is she going?..
-Hey, you! Hey, where are you going?!
Anya hastily pulled on her coat. The boots on her bare feet clearly needed cleaning, but that didn’t matter to her anymore, and, pulling on her scarf, she opened the door and went out, and then ran... without waiting for the dirty elevator...
Each of us from time to time the question comes to mind: “Where is my prince?” This question is especially relevant when we stand either as a hero at a crossroads, or having declared a boycott of the entire male population, after another unsuccessful experience with one of the strong half of humanity. Although whether it’s strong...now one can doubt it. And if you are over 25, you have already achieved something in life, you have an apartment, a car, good job, and following dense prejudices, everything older generation vying with each other to repeat that it’s time to get married, then this is almost the main issue on the agenda.
So, we declare the meeting open! Initially, we immediately determine for ourselves that we do not agree to any compromises and we only need a prince of noble blood or at least a knight without fear and reproach. The ideal option is, of course, two in one, shake and not stir, but finding and recognizing a male prince in a crowd is also difficult. The main thing is to be able to do this. Surely, each of us has a certain life experience, a bunch of your own and even more other people’s stories about how they were deceived, their hearts were broken and the prince turned into a frog.
Every girl dreams of meeting her prince
By the way, while we have just begun to delve into the essence of the problem, it is strictly forbidden to think about female loneliness. This problem is simply far-fetched, and the reason lies more in the head, and not in the absence of someone nearby loved one. You can easily be lonely and even at a time when someone is nearby, warms the bed, fills the house with the smell of men's perfume, but still it will not be the same, and again the question: “Where is my prince?” will arise again . The internal discomfort from the lack of unity will sooner or later make itself felt, so we mentally repeated to ourselves that we do not agree to compromises, we need a real native prince so that we have the strength to be touched by his ceremonial throwing of socks and to admire the majestic snoring next to him on the pillow.
Here it’s worth immediately finding out what kind of prince we want: he would be handsome, well-built, muscular, smart, able to carry on small talk with your friends, affectionate and courteous, have noble manners and stately posture, generous and romantic , had exquisite taste. We can list endlessly what our prince should have, and the list of requirements will steadily expand and be revised, as our requests and our own changing views will dictate more and more new points. And then, when we have compiled this merciless list, we can also mercilessly tear it up.
Princes are people too and they have their own shortcomings, so some of the requirements, perhaps even more, will have to be crossed out, leaving for ourselves exactly those features that will distinguish our prince from the crowd of men. Well, since his kingdom is small or his manners are not particularly secular, he could easily lose them all on the battlefield, but he has masculinity and a strong-willed character, which is now more important than being able to use chopsticks for sushi or understand art. All this is acquired, and then, in the future, you yourself can teach all the missing knowledge to your prince.
A handsome, smart and decent prince is the key to any girl’s dreams
So, let's move on to the practical side of the issue. “The time will come, he will find it behind the stove!” - our grandmothers repeated. I just want to object: “grandmother, my dear, what time are we living in now?!” Here it’s either a galloping horse into a burning hut or an independent, self-sufficient and emancipated woman to the core. But each of us wants our own fairy tale and that we live happily ever after. “The sun shines equally on everyone on the planet, both the princess and the simple conductor...!” as the famous song says, so, having charged firm conviction that we are princesses and are absolutely worthy of happiness and love, we take a map of the city and mark on it the habitats of the princes.
A real prince is unlikely to stand out with anything special, he is more like an uncut diamond, and you will not immediately see him in a crowd, but a precisely tuned female sniper scope will easily reveal him upon closer examination. The princes' habitats are distinguished by their masculine character - these can be sports bars, gyms, in general, wherever there is a sports prefix. But this does not mean at all that they are not found in other places; they are also found in cafes and clubs, but the main thing here is to conduct a clear and quick analysis of the company with which he came. So, for example, a group of hot and excited men most likely came just to have fun and find a girl for a long and respectable relationship, this is unlikely to be part of their plans, but if the company is mixed (boys, girls), but he shows no signs of courtship to the girl does not show, then you can safely begin to act.
To meet a prince, you need to be worthy of him and not forget about yourself
Each of you already has your own set of tools for seduction, honed over the years and which has brought you many trophies from the battlefields for men. Well, then everything follows the same pattern: “we met, started communicating and found out whether this is the prince you need.” If this time it turns out that he is not the one, then there is no need to despair and “hang up your gloves,” because then, by the same logic, men who also experienced failures in dating should also stop searching, but to fortunately this does not happen. They still continue to look for us, those one and only ones, which means that sooner or later the trajectories of our searches will coincide and this is where the fairy tale with the end begins: “they lived happily ever after.”
Well, dear girls, while we are sparing no effort in searching for princes, it would not hurt to put ourselves in a state of combat readiness. Or, in fairy tale terms, no one will make their legs small and their hearts big, but, in modern terms, rebranding has never harmed anyone.
We start with an inspection of the “work front”. Hair, face, skin, eyebrows, nails, arms, legs, butt, stomach, chest. We directly start a notebook and, without hiding anything from ourselves to our beloved, we sensibly and objectively assess their condition. Do fashionable haircut or cut just the ends, nourish or dye your hair, do facial cleansing or peeling, manicure, pedicure, steam extra pounds remove, anti-cellulite massage, pump up your butt (squats will help you), update your wardrobe or radically change it, and don’t forget to throw out the trash... out of the bin, out of your head, out of life. So that there is more space in it for pleasant things, and then the prince will certainly not pass by you, who has a stunning appearance, and also a bright head without obsessive thoughts and a positive attitude.
Watch online - Capricious Princess
