Sayin’s in the South
I’m not sure how to type the word “south” in a southern accent. They say it in almost three syllables here. It’s like Say-Ow-Th (the TH is totally a syllable, but soft) and fast. Like butter.
Anyway, one of my favorite things about the southern dialect isn’t the southern dialect itself. It’s the things the southern dialect says.
These cutesy sayings. You know, like “I do declare, Youkie-Bear, why, aren’t you just a tall drink of water?”
But not all sayings are complimentary or pleasant.
Like, “Why, Daniel Bard, you just poo-pooed all over our parade.”
Not to be taken literally, of course.
What a horrible parade that will be.
But you get my drift.
So I was thinking… the best way to describe last night is with a southern phrase I haven’t thought of yet.
Something that sounds like a disastrous country song on a Hallmark card of tragedy.
I thought I would get your ideas. So, implore your inner southerner to explain in cutesy southern speak EXACTLY WHAT THE FRICK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT.
You know, like *ahem*: We were just two sandwiches short of a picnic. One fry short of a Happy Meal. Bard’s as full of wind as a corn eatin’ horse. Bard, you could even depress the devil. You’re as mad as a mule chewin’ on bumblebees. We fell harder than a drunk into a tree. The game was so ugly that its mom had to tie a pork shop around its bullpen just so the dog would play with it.
My theory is, that *ahem* just like a cool glass o’ sweet tea (I’m working on it, OKAY?), this will provide cathartic rays of sunshine on our Tuesday.
So, hit the comments and get cutesy.
Because last night? Was SO not cutesy. So let’s fix it with southern sass. SportsAttitudes, I see you being good at this.
Winner gets a prize. It’s called respect.
~L
I feel like a contestant on What’s My Line where I have to recuse myself because I once lived in Memphis for eight months. I’m not sure it is fair that I participate because from that experience I learned…1) Coke is acceptable for breakfast at all times…2) Lunch can be as large as dinner if not larger…3) Sweet Tea is crack…4)When you live near a train station that is bad because the tornadoes sound like trains. I could go on and on. Oh well..here goes…they played SO bad their jockstraps sued THEM for non-support.
feel free! go on and on and on. i have lived here years and years and you seem to have absorbed more knowledge. as large as dinner, you say? i’ve noticed people refer to lunch AS dinner sometimes. and you don’t say supper unless you’re talking about A supper. You know, like a spaghetti supper.
and spaghetti suppers come in a can. i learned that.
the obsession with ranch dressing (and how you don’t have to say dressing to refer to ranch dressing) creeps me out. it is gross.
you know. like yesterday’s game.
I do declare, i’m as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine over what happened in last night’s game. Many a summer’s eve you Bostonians tend to count your chickens before they’re hatched only to end up madder than a wet hen quicker than two shakes of a sheep’s tail. In the end Daniel Bard got caught with his britches down and bought off more than he could chew with Brantley and cabrera in the eigth. yes… the sun don’t shine on the same dog’s tail everyday. Last night the tribe was on the receiving end of that sunsine, Right now the Indians are in high cotton and winning is coming as easy as sliding off a greasy log backward. It hasn’t been like this in samn near a coon’s age…ain’t that the berries…ain’t that the berries indeed.
this is where I would say Go Tribe or talk about how the red Sox suck, but I think I’d rather just bask in the glow of the best record in baseball
~
I, too, enjoyed seeing the Sox stumble (but my Yankees did no better). Perhaps you’ll like this Soxy. You know that saying about the poor guy bringing a knife to a gunfight? How about “Poor Red Sox. Brought Bard to a pitcher’s duel.” Nah, I’m not feeling it either. In any event, word up here in Boston is that Dice K may be going back to Japan to have season-ending surgery?!?!?
They fawrgot to pahk theyah cahs on landsdowne street for the sawx game.
Thats about the only dialect I can do. sorry
I would say that Bard crapped in his mess kit. Of course around here (North Florida), people may say, “Bless his heart, he just could not hit his spots last night.”
The regular season means nothing but placement. I think Cleveland fans would have learned that once before. 2007, 99 Ring a bell?
My favorite saying is a few cheerios short of a nutritious breakfast. Like a Yankee fan.
I’ma fixin’ ta take that there Bard out to tha woodshed and give him somethin’ ta THINK about! That was a right smart away from bein’ a fahn performance. Looks like they counted theyah chickens befoah the cows came home, if’n ya get mah drift.
Bard is from Charlotte, until he got married then he moved to his wife’s state (Alabama? Arkansas?) so this southern thing seems appropriate. I’ve only lived in the Carolinas for ten years so I’m still working on my southern slang.
All I can add is that this game stunk, as if someone stepped in a pile of Bard.
I apologize for my earlier contribution. I failed to respond in the context requested and did not “South it up.” I went for Shock value rather than South value. Let’s try again…they y’all played so bad they y’all’s jockstraps sued they y’all for non-support. First try aside, as I type this the Sox are takin’ a whippin’ to those Indian fellas so dang bad they ain’t gonna be any hide on ‘em left to tar.
Awesome. Stay tuned and start thinking. Later today I’m going to put out a call of southernisms of victory. Look at you, SA, being ahead.