Dialect – one sentence

[Mouse]

I'm from Somerset, my fella's from Devon. Off out to meet him in a sec but when we were arranging what day, he replied to me with "Yer, Sunday tis then, bin it, maid." (Yes, Sunday it is then, isn't it, girl.)

 

[InfinitySquared]

Re: Dialect – one sentence

I'm from the Philippine Republic BTW.

Filipino Street English: Hoy 'Tol! You wan b'ay babol gam? I is pay'ing poR da maaney, piso unle you pae!

Hey mate, you want some bubble gum? I am paying, just give me a Peso.

The 'R' is pronounced with a massive trill, kinda like in Pirate Talk, but worse.

Though some of us go like, especially in big campuses, as casual talk:

"Wa'er man! I tell ya, K'rina is a 'assiv whoe. Ya shoul'a see her yesterday, she was like, ree'ly skim'y!"

Whatever mate! I tell you, Karina is a massive whore. You should have seen her yesterday, she was wearing really skimpy clothes.

We also have a massive habit of contracting long words, even ones that are not commonly contracted. Like 'Cellular Phone' becomes just 'Cell'.

 

[Window Bar]

From the southern USA comes true efficiency in language. Consider the word "gwone."
It replaces four entire words: "I am going to."
Used in a sentence: "Gwone gitchew, boy!" (I am going to get you, boy.)

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Well, there's the Jeff Foxworthy southern redneck conversation, as follows:

"Djeet yet?"
"Nah, djoo?"
"Y'ant to?"
"A'ite"

Translation:

Did you eat yet?
No, did you?
Do you want to?
All right.

 

[2ndchance]

East London...
‘Oy!’
Translation:
‘Hey, my friend, what are you doing, you can’t do that, not to my car.’

 

[Ökuþórr]

Mine.

ME. *Raises left eyebrow*

Translation: What the hell has that got to do with anything.

My friend. *Raises both eyebrows, with half a smile*

Translation: Your asking me? It was your idea.

ME. *Shrugs*

Translation: Forget it, im hungry. You?

Friend. *Tilts head to the left slightly and looks up*

Translation: Subway!

 

[mygoditsraining]

There is the famous, apocraphyl tale of a Glasgow gent in the dock, on being asked by the judge what exactly it was he did with the food he stole.

"A' e' i' a'"

(I ate it all)

 

[Window Bar]

Re: Dialect – the "L-F" dialect.

And then there's the unfortunate genetic affliction that has made life hell for so many. I speak, of course, of the still-surviving use of the "L-F" dialect, wherein the speaker divides an interior vowel and inserts the sounds of the letters "L" and "F." Trousers, for example, become "troulfousers." One's hand becomes a "halfand," one's chin a "chilfin."

Imagine a duck hunter, loading his dog, his gun and his shotgun shells into his truck, all for a morning's duck hunting:

-- The hulfunter whilfistles for the dolfog. Here bolfoy! Here bolfoy! "Balfark!" says the dolfog, and julfumps into the balfack of the trulfuck.

The hulfunter takes the ignition kelfeys out of his polfocket and tries to stalfart the trulfuck. "Coulfough, coulfough," goes the trulfuck. And nothing halfappens. "Chrilfist!" culfurses the hulfunter, and he olfopens the hoolfood of the trulfuck and tilfightens the spalfark plulfugs. Again he trilfies the kelfeys. This time the trulfuck stalfarts: "Vroolfoom! vroolfoom!", and off they drilfive toward the blilfind where they commence hulfunting the dulfucks.

Once they're hilfidden in the blilfind, the hulfunter loalfoads the gulfun with shelfells that he talfakes out of a great big bulfucket of ammunilfition. Overhead he healfears their qualfarry, flying in for a lalfanding: "Qualfack! qualfack!" say the dulfucks. "Blalfam, blalfam!" goes the gulfun, and a dulfuck plolfops into the walfater. "Balfark!" says the dolfog, who julfumps into the walfater and swilfims (doing the dolfog palfaddle) out to dulfuck, gralfabs him by the nelfeck, and dralfags him back to the hulfunter. --

*******

And so it goes ... another case of a distinct dialect pushing its speakers into a marginal existence. Truly sad.

 

[2ndchance]

Then someone invented txt language, (ongoing)

Pmsl, wot sat bout m8. U k? coz u dont seemit. Cris wantsa no ifya com'n 2nite, so let im no so k. lol.

Without the punctuation. ?????

Steve

 

[J-WO]

Upper class gent- 'Good day. I would like to buy some pepper.'

Shopkeeper- 'Certainly, Sir. Black pepper or white pepper?'

UCG- 'No! I meant drawing pepper!'

 

[Peter Graham]

Noddy Holder goes into a clothes shop to get himself kitted out for a new stage suit - crushed velvet loon pants and enormous stack heels. As he admires himself in the mirror, the shopkeeper pipes up.

"And to complete the ensemble, perhaps Sir would like a kipper tie?"

"Thanks", replies Noddy "I'm parched."

 

[2ndchance]

Mustn't forget the four candles, to go with the spoons, etc.

And, rubbery chicken...

 

[2ndchance]

Me pearls!