Only a southerner knows..

Sent to me by a friend…yes it’s glurge…but it’s so very true…

Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don’t “HAVE” them, you “PITCH” them.

Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens,peas, beans, etc., make up “a mess.”

Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of “yonder.”

Only a Southerner knows exactly how long “directly” is – as in: “Going to town, be back directly.”

Even Southern babies know that “Gimme some sugar” is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.

All Southerners know exactly when “by and by” is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.

Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who’s got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. If the neighbor’s trouble is a real crisis, they also
know to add a large banana puddin!

Only Southerners grow up knowing the difference between “right near” and “a right far piece.” They also know that “just down the road” can be 1 mile or 20.

Only a Southerner, both knows and understands, the difference between a redneck, a good ol’ boy, and po’ white trash.

No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.

A Southerner knows that “fixin” can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.

Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines. We don’t do “queues,” we do “lines”; and when we’re “in line,” we talk to everybody!

Put 100 Southerners in a room and half of them will discover they’re related, even if only by marriage.

Southerners never refer to one person as “ya’ll.”

Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.

Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.

When you hear someone say, “Well, I caught myself lookin’,” you know you are in the presence of a genuine Southerner!

Only true Southerners say “sweet tea” and “sweet milk.” Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it – we do not like our tea unsweetened. “Sweet milk” means you don’t want buttermilk.

And a true Southerner knows you don’t scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway. You just say, “Bless her heart” and go your own way.

To those of you who’re still a little embarrassed by your Southerness: Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning. Bless your heart!

And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff, bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin’ to have classes on Southernness as a second language!

And for those that are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, ya’ll need a sign to hang on ya’lls front porch that reads “I aint from the South but I got here as fast as I could.”

Bless ya’ll pea pick’n hearts, ya’ll have a blessed day.

Great list… but it’s spelt y’all. :wink:

… and if you’re from the Deeeep South, you know turnip greens come in a passel.

I know. But far be it from me to edit.

Children don’t call you Mister Last Name. It’s Mister First Name and Miss (even if you’re a older lady with 17 granchildren) First Name.

I well remember my shock the first time I visited a restaurant outside the South when they brought me tea without ice and then charged me for a refill. :eek:

From message boards, I have discovered there are people who don’t know what grits are.

I had no idea.

I once worked for a regional bank in the southeastern US. We had some 200 branches in 4-5 states, not a small player in the financial industry. We hired a Chief Operating Officer from New Jersey who knew naught about Southern culture and did NOT want to learn. His office was just down the hall from mine and I worked with him fairly often. One of our early conversations went like this:

Me (goading him in front of several cow-orkers) - You look hungry. How 'bout a big bowl of grits for breakfast this morning.

CO - What IS a grit, anyway?

Me - A grit? Singular? A damn poor meal.

How coud such uncivilized visigoths run a restaurant? Of course here in Texas (a cousin of, but not to be confused with, “The South”) the beverage of choice is unsweetened iced tea, and the sweet stuff is looked upon none too kindly. Refills are, of course, gratis.

Which is one way you can tell that you’re not in the South (or as we like to call it - Civilization) as I believe that there is legislation in all Southern states mandating that sweet tea* be available on request.

  • Real sweet tea with the sugar properly dissolved in hot water, not packet sugar swirling around the bottom of the glass.

welp… on them collard greens… a croaker sack full is a mess, between a croaker sack full and a bushel-basket full is a bait, anything more’n a bushel is a whole passel.
but y’all knew that

Well, now, sugah! Ah jis’ couldn’t have said it any better than thayut! :smiley:

Now… a deep dark secret confession from a born and bred southerner (ya cain’t git much more suthern thayun Jawja now kin ya):

<takes deep breath>

I like my tea unsweetened. I also like coffee black.

Reckon that some kind of abomination caused by my gay genes?

<whew>

There I said it. Now come on and git me! :stuck_out_tongue:

P.S. If it makes any difference, seeing y’all spelled ya’ll makes me want to go grab a switch and whup tarnation outta ennywun what duz it.

Ummm…coffee black is okay as long as you’re male.

Unsweet tea? The shame your poor parents must feel. Are you out or do you order sweet tea just to fit in?

blink

What is, or are, “grits” anyways?

I can see I’ve got some learning to do…

:: Sunspace wanders off to look for maple fudge cookies ::

Can’t be that. I don’t even call it “tea” unless it’s got at least a half a bag of sugar per pitcher. Until then, it’s just “water with some weird shit in it.”

I think the true test, though, is your reaction to sweet cornbread.

I think we’re all agreed that such a thing is unclean, an abomination to God. I felt nauseated just typing it. It’s a siren food; it looks just like real cornbread, tricking you into taking a bite of its buttery wholesomeness. And it’s not until you’ve got the foulness in your mouth that you realize it’s all been a lie!

Nasty.

[url=“http://www.grits.com/”]A lot of southerners
[/quote]
swear by 'em, though, so maybe I’m the weird one. Whenever I’m having breakfast, I tell them to leave off the grits, but give me an extra helping of biscuits & gravy.

Dang. Ah well, here’s your grits.

And a croaker is a gamefish, not a bullfrog.

I hate tea, sweet or not; I love fried dill pickles.

Yankee by birth; Southerner by choice.

The OP contains numerous factual errors.

I have heard “y’all” applied to just me (singular) many, many times. “How y’all doing?” is a standard greeting by “true Southern” store clerks. In fact, this is the first time I’ve heard someone claim that it could only be used in the plural.

Other phrases such as “yonder”, “line”, “by and by”, etc., are understood/used over a large area of the US. One of my uncles uses “yonder” and he’s Norwegian-American from SDak.

And little old ladies going 30 on a freeway are dead meat. 10mph over the speed limit is considered way too slow and worthy of being run into the median.

Try a list of things that only Southerners don’t understand. That would put encyclopedias to shame.

The proper reaction to a death, particularly a sudden one, is jello salad and a casserole that can be frozen.

**I like my tea unsweetened. I also like coffee black.

Reckon that some kind of abomination caused by my gay genes?**

Maybe. Unsweetened tea is truly wrong. But as long as you either:

  1. Own at least one cap with a seed logo on it
    or
  2. Are able to “whup some ass” in a bar when the occasion arises,

… you’re not too gay to still be southern :slight_smile:
Try a list of things that only Southerners don’t understand. That would put encyclopedias to shame.
Alrighty, then.
I don’t understand how Yankees can bump into someone and not feel the need to say “excuse me.”

I don’t understand how a Yankee can live next door to someone for 30 years and the only thing they know about their neighbor is their name.

I don’t understand how Yankees can be close friends with someone for years and never know when/if their friend goes to church, or ever has.

I don’t understand how Yankees can make fun of southerners over their accents when they have BOSTON, for the love of Pete, the most fucking awful irritating makes-you-want-to-jackslap-them-and-watch-them-cry-like-a-little-girl accent in the world.

vunderbob, I lived in the South for several years and my father’s from the South, but I ain’t never had none o’ them thar fried dill pickles.
How would one go ‘bout makin’ those, anyways? Or are they more something you get from a restraunt? I aim to try 'em!