Correction:
It stay give me chicken skin. 
I’m here in the Swamp and I’ve heard that on occassion too.
I also noticed many people here say “Melk” for “Milk” and “Pellow” for “Pillow”
Rhode Islanders say “wicked” too.
A Rhode Island-ism I’ve picked up is “downcella”, meaning “in the basement”.
One I have not and really can’t get used to after all these years is “please?” instead of, “could you repeat that please?” It sounds rude to me, but it’s not.
As an original Mainer, I still say “jeezum” and “jeezum crow”.
As a current Bawlmer, Merliner I can attest to all those things that were written. It’s a weird accent, definitely more pronounced in – but not exclusive to – the lower economic classes.
Upstate New York, all of the "ah"s and "aw’s come right through the nose. It’s a disgusting, grating accent. It’s not quaint or cute in any “local color” sort of way.
The last summer I lived there, there was a local car commercial for the Mitsubishi “Galant”.
The “Guh-lahnt” (roughly) in most places. The way the girl on the commercial said it – gaa laant – I’m surprised my TV speakers survived it, much less my ear drums.
I can tell if a Hoosier is from the northern fifth of the state if she says Chicago as “Sh’caaaw-g’w.”
Here in central Indiana, “wallago” means “in the recent past.” I’ve heard some folks here talk about “warshing and wrenching” their cars, but it’s not common. Those same folks don’t beat around the “boosh.” They also pop a balloon with a “pee-un” and write with an “ink-pee-un.”
I don’t think I ever got an answer to this - what is it and where are you from?
That and dude. My flagrant use of the word “dude” when I moved to Colorado ca. 1991 pegged me immediately as not only an outsider, but a dreaded : ominous music : Californian! And even worse, an Angeleno! (more or less anyways). Yes, I still say “dude”. No way you’re breaking this Californian child of the 80s of that habit.
Also “hella”, as in, “that’s hella cool”. But that’s NoCal speak; I picked it up from a friend from Santa Cruz.
My husband says a lot of weird stuff. He was born in Pasadena (CA) but his family is from South Carolina on his maternal side and New York/Jersey on his paternal. Roof = ruf, wolf = woof, refrigerator = ice box, and the notorious “fucken” in place of “fuckin’”(just as a general catch-all expletive). “Fucking” is a different word; the -ing is emphasized and deliberate.
And I still get lost in the “supper” and “dinner” debate (I use dinner, but my mom and grandparents often say supper).
Not me personally (I speak proper, I do) but here’s a couple from England that stand out:
One of my university lecturers was from Bristol (or “Brizzle” as he called it). He and his fellow Bristolians pronounce “idea” as “ideal”.
And I lived in Manchester for a few years: there, some people pronounce “tickle” as “tittle”, but will say “lickle” instead of “little”, which is weird.
I took HTML 4 from a strikingly beautiful young Baltimorean actress-model. She looked every man’s dream executive in her blue suit, miniskirt, maxilegs, and glasses…until she opened her mouth and you heard that slightly deflated long “o” that’s kind of flat on one side (“ehhho”), and that drawly, yet very urban inflection that sounds like the novocaine is just wearing off and you’re not quite sure where your tongue is. Part of the syllabus involved putting web content into “foders” (folders) and writing code as “rawl tex” (raw text).
Further corruption: “Finna.”
Ah’m finna go ta th’ stow.
Bankhead, Metropolitan Atlanta
No Jeezum. Lots of Jeez. (I always assumed jeez is universal is it regional???)
I am originally from West Texas. We say things like:
–y’all I know that other people from all walks of life say this word, but I can tell as soon as the word comes out of people’s mouths whether they are from Texas or not. Variations include: all y’all, as in “Are all y’all gonna be at the game tonight?” and y’all’s, as in, “Yeah, we saw y’all’s friends at the Dairy Queen last night.”
–ranch instead of wrench. There’s a joke that goes like this: a man’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere in West Texas so he walks a couple miles to a farmhouse. There’s an old couple sitting on the front porch and there are about seventeen little kids running around. The man asks the old couple if he can borrow a monkey wrench to which the old man replies, “Monkey ranch! This ain’t no monkey ranch; these are my grandchi’ren!”
–bob wire instead of barbed wire
As an Iowan transplant to suburban NYC, I still have largely Midwestern speech, but with a few Easternisms interlaced. For example, I eat dinner in the evening, and sometimes resolve that ongonna do this or that afterwards (proper Midwest is omminna), such as go to the store right off BroadWAY, where I bag my own groceries. But I carry them in a cart (more often a wagon here) and occasionally find in said cart a cuepon (here a coopon) or flier (older NYers, at least, call it a circular). I stand in the line others are on. My purchases often include both pop (flavored carbonated drinks) and soda (unflavored, used here to mean flavored). On the way out I might put a check in the mailbox to pay for my power (here it’s electric, used as a noun).
A couple years ago I completely buffaloed (stumped) an ice cream server when I asked for a double dip cone. (Here it’s two scoops. Raisin Bran is not an option.)
I never have resolved the “short oo/long oo” dilemma, so I use them indiscriminately in roof and root (I also say “root” for route). Room, however, is decidedly long oo.
Shibboleth:
Want to tell a Midwesterner from a New Yorker quickly and reliably? Express a statement likely to elicit strong agreement. A Midwesterner will be unfailingly positive (“You bet”, “Got that right”, etc.) A NYer will often begin the agreement with what I call the Positive No, a strange phenomenon indeed. “No, you’re right,” or “No, I know what you mean.” Apparently NYers are so used to being contrary that it takes a little of the icky feeling out of agreeing.
I’m from the northern suburbs of Boston, and at least in my family, we also say “down cellar” for “in the basement.” Since I don’t go into other people’s basements much, I have no idea how they refer to them.
When my friend from Connecticut moved up here and we were roommates for a while, I tried to educate her in the proper use of “wicked,” but alas, to no avail. She insisted on using it as an adjective by itself (i.e., “That car is wicked!”) when any Boston-area native knows that it should be used as a modifier - the car must be wicked something.
One of the best renderings of the local accent (which according to most people I don’t have - probably too much tv as a kid) I’ve heard was from a waiter we had some years back who was originally from PA. Instead of the tired “pahk the cah,” he caught more of the real local flavor: “Goin’ ta Woostah to buy a toastah, ya bastid.” (“Going to Worcester to buy a toaster, you bastard,” to the rest of you.) To this day my friends and I will call each other “ya bastid,” or even “ya Woostah-toastah-buyin’ bastid.”
Utah has its own sort of dialect, but it varies depending on the devoutness of the (Mormon) speaker or their distance from the Big City.
Liberry (library)
Across’t (As in, "It broke all the way across’t)
Lahrd (“Thank the Lahrd!”)
Soda Pop (fizzy drink)
Some more goodies from Hawaiian Pidgin that I like:
Howzit? = general greeting
beef = fight (“You like beef?” is not a menu offering.)
choke = a whole lot of (“How’s your chem class going, dear?” “Ho! Get CHOKE homework!”)
da kine = watevas
but (at the end of a sentence) = though (“The keiki hula dancers are rather clumsy.” “So cute, I geev 'um credit, but.”) (When I first heard this construction I was always waiting for the rest of the sentence. “But WHAT?” There is no rest. Da sentence stay ova.)
Talk story, talk stink, stink eye…
And that’s just some vocabulary and construction. Other distinctives include: downward intonation to indicate a question (nearly unique) and the general rhythm of giving all syllables nearly equal stress and time (whereas Standard English gives only stressed syllables equal time).
In response to samclem’s challenge of:
BiblioCat asked:
The Devil’s strip is the Akron (OH) term for that little patch of grass between the street and sidewalk where trees are often planted (hence the alternative phrase tree lawn, which I learned growing up in suburban Cleveland, one county north of Summit, where Akron is). My parents still put their garbage out on the tree lawn to be collected. In other regions, the bit of greenery may be called the berm, boulevard, or any of several additional alternatives.