How about “cain’t”? And “want” that sounds like “won’t”. Oh, and “on” that sounds like “own”.
Tump over.
Really? Hmmmf.
Here’s one nobody got yet: “I need to wash the car, where’s the hose pipe?” 
“Yasuh.”
Translation: “Yes, sir.” Used in the context of being extremely satisfied.
“Pin” and “Pen” are pronounced the same in many areas. Thus you’ll hear someone ask if they can borrow (or borry) an “Ink Pen” as opposed to a “straight pin.”
Along the same line as “that shit won’t fly” as an expression for some idea that won’t work, you’ll also hear “that dog won’t hunt.”
Actually there are several colloquialisms involving dogs. If there is a controversy whose outcome doesn’t affect you directly (for example, the outcome of the California gubernatorial election as it relates to those of us here in Georgia), you “don’t have a dog in that fight.”
A dishonest politician is “as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.”
A contented person is “as happy as a dog without fleas.”
And a person who is incapable of telling the truth “lies like a dog.”
I had no idea that was a regionalism. Nor did I know about the ‘firefly’ and ‘lightning bug’ thing. (For the record, in Missouri (pronounced like Mississippi, not Utah!), we called them lightning bugs.)
My mother “warshed” things, as opposed to washing them.
Is “elbow grease” a regionalism? I’m guessing it is. We use that when something particulary dirty needs more effort in scrubbing harder to get it clean. I’ll never forget when I learned that one, either. I was about 5 or 6 and something I was trying to clean up wasn’t coming clean, so my father said to me, “Try some elbow grease.” I looked all over the pantry for “elbow grease,” until he finally explained to me that it wasn’t a product, but my own arm strength.
Time to leave/go to sleep = “Call in the dogs and piss on the fire, the hunt’s over.”
And of course the ever popular “dog-gone it!”
???
That’s dialect rather than a regionalism, is it not?
carnivorousplant, many Missourians and others from mid-western and southern states, pronounce it “miz-OO-rah,” instead of “miz-OO-ree.” I have no idea where that mispronunciation came from, but it drives me batty! I mentioned it because I believe it to be a “regionalism,” as I’ve never heard anyone from, say, New York, call it Mizzourah.
re·gion·al·ism (rj-n-lzm) n.
- Political division of an area into partially autonomous regions. Advocacy of such a political system.
- Loyalty to the interests of a particular region.
- A feature, such as an expression, a pronunciation, or a custom, that is characteristic of a geographic area.
I use “I don’t have a horse in that race” and “lies like a rug” for these, myself. I’ve heard your variants used, though.
We’re Northerners who moved to the South. Mr. Sultana became entranced by the use of “big ass” to mean “large”, and delighted in using it in phrases such as “We live right behind a big-ass cathedral.”
He also went to the county fair without me, and won a T-shirt for being the first in the crowd to know what SPAM stands for.
He wears it with pride.
Wow! See, now if someone said that to me I’d reply something to the effect of “oh, no problem I’ll go see if ‘Joe’ can do it then”.
I’d understand it to mean “I’d really rather not”.
Not a Southerner, but this is one of my favorites:
“She’s so bucktoothed she could eat an apple through a picket fence. Bless her heart.”
That means we’ve initiated him into our society. He’s one of US now. 
I’ve been known to let forth an occasional “Well, I swanny!” (the way I’ve always visualized the spelling.)
If I run into someone I haven’t seen in a while, I might say “Laws, Grace, I haven’t seen you since Buck was a calf!”
I’ve always thought liable to (pronounced “libel to”), as in “He’s liable to do something he’ll regret” was a Southernism.
Sometimes I pronounce a particularly common tree nut here “PEE-can,” as in “Look at that big ol’ PEE-can tree out there!” Other times, it’s pi-CAHN, as in “May I have another piece of pi-CAHN pie, please?”
I love regional speech quirks. I used to try to rid myself of them. Now I cultivate them.
PUH kahn.
Mrs. Plant from New England says PEE can.
That’s also a French Canadian saying, believe it or not. For rain and sun together, we say the devil’s beating his wife to get pancakes.
- Le diable bat sa femme pour avoir des crepes…*
Good one. How about “pernt near”?
As in “I pernt near killed him!”
He was pert near kilt when that big ass warsh tub tumped over on him, but I didn’t have a dog in that fight.
Ya’ll continue this sentence.