Southern Dopers: what regionalisms do you use?

It’s hard to itemize the expressions and regionalisms one uses on a regular basis without a reference point against which to compare. There are so many “standard” Southern ways of saying things that I’ve grown up with, that until someone from elsewhere points them out as “regionalisms” I just don’t think about them. Those already mentioned have been part of my speech since I was a kid.

BTW, “kid” was not a regional expression for me, but one I had to adapt to. Don’t know for sure why I thought of it as a “foreign” term.

The things I do recognize as “regionalisms” and which I deliberately try to incorporate in my own usages are all the crazy or outlandish similes the South is noted for. Too many to itemize, but a good example of the type is one my 90-year-old mother used in her nursing home days. I don’t remember if it was because she was cold, or had a fever, or what, but she was trembling and said, “I’m shaking like a dog shitting peach seeds.” I had heard the expression before (several times) but never from Mama, whose speech was usually quite refined and genteel. Needless to say, I laughed out loud and continued to for several minutes.

I do recall some movie that Fess Parker was in (maybe it was The Jayhawkers) where he was teaching a child some verbs, and went through the “fixing to’s” and “ain’t fixing to’s” conjugations. Good for a laugh, but Hollywoodized.

The picturesque nature of so many similes used in this area makes me believe that Southerners have a penchant for such language and that colorful speech is a regional heritage for all classes and ethnic groups. All those little tourguide books like “How To Talk Southern” and “Y’all Spoken Here” that you find in places like Stuckey’s and Rock City are replete with the quaint and colorful. They’re always fun to read, but usually written by non-Southerners who are fascinated by the way folks talk.

As often as not, the nature of the oddity is that it shows a bit of folksy wisdom or uncanny observation about things. One just naturally gravitates to that sort of thing as one grows up in these parts. It’s hard to acquire suddenly and requires an ear for that part of language that pokes fun at itself.

Here it means the exact opposite.

Really threw me at first when people were saying it. I thought they were telling me they didn’t want to do things, because “I don’t care to ______” means “I don’t want to” where I’m from.

Hey brianjedi where in west Kentucky are you from?

Born and raised in Texas Gulf Coast Swamp.

I live in the OKC now.

Back by.

Some people come back. Some come by. I come back by. Basically meaning to come around again to whereevr it is I’m leaving.

Well, back when I was knee high to a grasshopper growing up in Georgia, we would call a heavy rain a gully washer.

Indeed, a veritable frog strangler.

In addition to ones already mentioned, these are some that I and my family use with variable frequency:

tore up — 1. having a quality of great anguish: I’m just tore up over what she said. 2. with “it” — performed exceedingly well: The team tore it up in the second half.

wore out — 1. tired: I would go, but I’m too wore out. 2. with “slap” — 2. extremely tired: I worked a double shift, and I’m wore slap out.

took a notion — felt a mild urge: I just took a notion to play some guitar. (Pronunciation note: GIT-tar.)

like — 1. lack: We’ve got the first and third, but we like the middle one. 2. with “to” — nearly: When I saw who it was I like to had a heart attack. (Usage note: “liken” is a variant.)

golly — a mild interjection, akin to “oh, wow!”: Oh, come on, golly!. (Pronunciation note: gyah-LAY.)

swunney — to be amazed or astonished: She did? Well, I swunney! (Pronunciation note: “Well” in this case is usually pronounced “ell”.)

orta — ought to: We orta wait for John.

comin’ up — intransitively approaching, but taking an object: It looks like it’s comin’ up a storm.

Bless his/her little heart

Modifies a slam so it doesn’t seem so harsh.
“He’s as ugly as cardboard box left out in the rain and runned over by the lawnmower, bless his little heart.”
“She’s bitchier than a hound in heat, bless her little heart.”

My father’s from Louisiana, but spent his entire adult life in the Army. So he doesn’t sound at all like his relatives. But he does pronounce the occasional word rather oddly. For example, vehicle is vee-ID-ih-kl.

My mother, who’s from Kentucky, doesn’t say “fixing to”, but she does say “might could” now and then. Never really noticed it until I listened to Foxworthy.

My own accent is American mongrel. Elements from the South, Southwest, West Coast, and even a little Canadian thrown in.

I haven’t seem some of these mentioned, possibly because they’re more common among Cajuns than other Southerners:

“Get down” - You don’t get out of the car. You get down from the car. Even if it’s a lowrider.

“Save the dishes” - What my wife says when she wants me to put the already-washed dishes in the cupboard. I think I say this one sometimes.

Odd pronounciations of common words (e.g. long ‘E’ sound in the first syllable of “cement” or putting the stress on the first syllable of “insurance,” instead of the second) - Actually, I don’t do this. It seems that I pick up the words and phrases long before pronounciations. (I’m a transplant from up North, in case you haven’t been able to figure that out yet.)

There are also a host of Cajun words and phrases (e.g. “Mais yeah!”) that worm their way into common conversational English down here, some of which I use, others I don’t. Some are more common than others; even after knowing her for six years, my wife still occasionally throws me for a loop with a Cajun phrase I’ve never heard before .

Well, I say “fixin’ to”, and “'bout near.” And **Nichol_storm,
** we always useta say “chiggers”, not redbugs.

Oh yeah, the way people pronounce root and roof. Down here we say root and roof, with an “ooh” sound like “due”-- my boyfriend who was born in Ohio, pronounces it with a short “oo” sound, like “good.”

A friend of mine originally from Michigan couldn’t stand the way we use hateful, ill, and sorry. As in, “He’s actin’ all hateful” or “he’s bein’ ill to’ards his mama” or “quit actin’ so sorry all the time.” So of course I started being hateful and used them all the time around him.

My grandma, from the western NC mountains, used expressions like “They Law!” and “he thinks he’s shit on a stick.”

I didn’t realize till a few years ago that “Spittin’ image” is actually a Southern contraction of “Spirit and Image” when referring to how closely a child resembles their parent.

“They law!” I haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m glad you mentioned it, Knowed Out.

How about “big ol’,” as in “big ol’ truck” and “big ol’ boy”?

“Got gone” is a fairly common phrase in this area, as in “I can’t find my wrench! It got gone!”

And don’t forget that barbeque is a food, not an event.

Ah hurd dat! :smiley:

Actually I also wanted to add to Jessicer’s already excellent comment: " I love her to death but____________, God love her!" I call this the “heavenly disclaimer”! :smiley: (Meaning that as long as you invoke the deity somwehere in your sentence, you’ll stay out of hell for judging your fellow person!) We hear this a lot around my hospital!

And I picked this one up from a southern hard-shelled preacher I heard once and y’all have heard me use it here many times as a term of endearment: “Ya little heathens!” (Only he put an r inbetween last e and the n: heatherns).

Finally, having grown up in the south but loving my German heritage, I have come up with my own personal Achduliebergodamighty!. (That one comes in handy when I hit my thumb instead of the nail while using a hammer.)

Just thought of another one: Missrez for Mrs. (Missus).

Q

Right. The eventvity, of course, is “grilling out”. :slight_smile:

One more I thought of: we wear toboggans on our heads. (I think they’re called “ski caps” up north.

Said upon leaving some get-together: “Y’all jist go home with us!”.

Yeah, right.

Charming expression though, ain’t it?

:smiley:

My American Grandma (shortly after we moved here), as I was leaving her house: “You come back now, Bill, heah?

So hell, I turned around and went back, being de gut Cherman boy dat I vas!

Q

Huh. I didn’t see what jesliegh had hidden in her post, otherwise, I wouldn’t have restated it.

Anyone done Coke, yet?

I’ll have a Coke.

  • Sure thing, Honey, what kind?

Dr. Pepper.

One I forgot (though I don’t use it personally):

“Done” instead of “did,” (e.g. “I done my homework”). I used to know a guy from Northern Louisiana who would use both words in the same sentence! He said things like “I done did what you asked me to.”

I frequently use jes’ instead of just, kin instead of can, and yer instead of your. If someone becomes agitated I might comment that his “head is on fire and his a$$ is ketchin.’” And I sometimes add extra syllables into my words–now becomes nay-ow and the town of Grants becomes Gray-yants.