Say it like locals

Do you know why "y'all" caught on outside the South?

America's regional slang words are as interesting as they are funny. They say a lot about how folks in different corners of the country see the world, and what kind of culture took root there over the years. No accent or phrase is "better" than another; most are just practical, colorful, or a little window into what a community is like. Take "y'all," beloved down South, or "wicked," which New Englanders toss into sentences like seasoning. None of these are used only in the places we mention: they've just made themselves at home there.

This one's everywhere below the Mason-Dixon line, and it's just useful: one word instead of "you guys" or "you all." Southerners use it constantly and unapologetically. Outsiders sometimes mock it as unsophisticated, then quietly start using it themselves within a year of moving South.

Even non-Southern celebrities get caught saying it on camera, then get roasted online, then keep saying it anyway.

"That's wicked good" doesn't mean "evil"; it means "very". Bostonians and their neighbors use it as an all-purpose intensifier. Non-locals find it charming, sometimes exaggeratedly imitating it to poke fun at the accent.

Locals don't care; they'll say "wicked awesome" with total sincerity. It's practically a regional badge of honor, and attempts to phase it out over the decades have, wickedly, failed completely.

Order a "Coke" in Georgia, and you might get asked "what kind?" because down South, "Coke" means any soda. The Midwest says "pop," the coasts say "soda." This sparks genuine, good-natured arguments at family gatherings and road trip stops nationwide. Nobody's ever truly won this debate, and honestly, that's part of the fun.

Both drop their R's, but they don't sound alike: ask any local, and they'll insist theirs is the "normal" one. Bostonians say "cah" for car; New Yorkers say "cawfee" for coffee. Outsiders often can't tell them apart, which mildly offends both sides.

TV and movies love exaggerating these accents, which locals alternately enjoy and find utterly ridiculous.

Life in Michigan's Upper Peninsula produced its own charming dialect, shaped by Finnish immigrants. Locals say "eh" often, eat "pasties" (savory meat pies), and call themselves "Yoopers" with pride.

Downstate Michiganders sometimes tease them as being from the middle of nowhere. Yoopers shrug it off; they've got snow, quiet, and a dialect nobody else can quite replicate.

South Louisiana blends French, Spanish, and African influences into phrases like "making groceries" (grocery shopping) or "lagniappe" (a little something extra). Visitors often find it delightfully musical and confusing in equal measure. Locals wear it proudly, treating their dialect as inseparable from their food, music, and heritage.

Try pronouncing "Natchitoches" correctly on your first attempt; it's a rite of passage.

This is a genuine, full creole language, not just an accent, blending English, Hawaiian, Japanese, and more. Mainlanders visiting sometimes assume it's simply broken English, which locals find both amusing and mildly irritating.

Within Hawaii, pidgin is a point of deep identity and connection. Using it casually, even imperfectly, tends to earn warm smiles rather than criticism.

Texans have a phrase for everything, often laced with dry humor. "Fixin' to" means "about to," while "all hat, no cattle" politely calls someone a fraud. Non-Texans often find these expressions delightfully quotable and borrow them for fun. Texans, meanwhile, consider their vocabulary practically its own dialect, proudly distinct from the rest of the South.

Words like "gnarly," "stoked," and "hang ten" came straight off the beach and into mainstream American vocabulary decades ago. Non-surfers everywhere adopted them, often without knowing the origin. Actual surfers sometimes roll their eyes at overuse by tourists and marketers. Still, it remains one of the most exported regional vocabularies in the whole country.

Philadelphia says "hoagie," New York says "hero," New England says "grinder," and most everywhere else says "sub." Order one by the "wrong" name in the "wrong" city, and you may get a good-natured correction from the person behind the counter. It's a beloved, low-stakes debate—delicious regardless of what you call it.

Everybody makes mistakes

Is "irregardless" a word? Terms often used incorrectly

Surely, we’ve all made grammatical mistakes that still haunt us. But that doesn’t mean our eyes are safe from twitching when we hear words like "irregardless." A dozen popular mistakes have spread and infiltrated the vocabulary of many, much to the dismay of word lovers. Let’s explore some of these and hope we aren’t among the ones committing them!

Careful: If you say you are nauseous, that means you are causing someone else nausea. You probably don’t mean that you stink, but that you are feeling sick yourself.

When stepping off a rollercoaster, you don’t feel nauseous: You might feel nauseated, which is the correct term.

When did people start using "infamous" interchangeably with "famous"? It’s hard to know, but this mistake is heard often. Remember, "infamous" and "notorious" are adjectives that imply the subject has a bad reputation.

Maybe the confusion comes from "famous" being right there in the word, but keep in mind: infamous isn’t the kind of fame you want.

If you’re bemused, you’re scratching your head, not laughing. "Bemused" gets thrown around as a fancier way to say "amused," but it actually means "confused" or "bewildered." One often isn’t bemused by a funny meme, but a complex set of instructions could leave you bemused.

People often use "decimate" to mean "destroy entirely," but its original meaning is "reduce by one-tenth." It derives from a Roman practice of punishing armies.

For example, you could announce that a crop was decimated by pests but that some survived. The confusion is likely because "one-tenth" doesn’t sound dramatic enough. Ironically, modern misuse has decimated the word’s original meaning.

"Peruse" is one of those words that has come to mean two nearly opposite things. Traditionally, and still in careful or formal writing, it means to read thoroughly and carefully. You could peruse a contract document before signing it, for example. However, over time, "peruse" has also picked up the opposite sense: to skim or browse casually.

In academic, legal, or professional writing, it's safest to reserve "peruse" for careful, close reading, and avoid using it as a stand-in for "skim" or "glance through."

"Irregardless" gets thrown around, but mostly as the less-preferred form of the word "regardless." Adding "ir-" to it makes it a nonstandard double negative. The word "regard-less" already means "without regard."

Why do people use the wrong form, then? Maybe inventing a prefix feels extra emphatic, but really, it’s like putting a hat on a hat.

"Supposably" is often (and incorrectly) used instead of "supposedly." While the former does exist, it means "as could be imagined or believed". "Supposedly" means "according to what is assumed or believed".

So, which adverb should be used? It depends on whether the reality described is supposed to be true (supposedly) or possible to be true (supposably).

Irony isn’t just a coincidence or bad luck; it’s when there’s a contradiction between expectation and reality. It would be ironic, for example, that a fire station should burn down.

If you simply ran into someone you know, however, that would not be ironic. It would simply be a funny coincidence.

"Literally" means something is true exactly as is stated. It is often misused for exaggerations to add emphasis.

People have grown used to inserting that word into any hyperbolic sentence, such as "I’m literally dying of laughter". The word does have its correct place in some phrases, though. For example, you could literally trip over your own shoelaces.

You cannot feel jealous of someone who enjoys something that you’ve never had. That’s because, strictly speaking, "jealousy" involves the fear of losing something.

"Envy" would be the correct term for referring to the desire to have what someone else does. For example, envying a gold medal when you only achieved the silver one.

Sometimes students claim to be failing a class because they are "disinterested" in the subject, which is an incorrect statement. "Disinterested" means "impartial", or "unbiased". What they mean is that they are not interested, or "uninterested".

"Effect" is usually a noun, but it can also work as a verb, where it means "to bring about" or "to cause to happen." For example: "The new manager was able to effect real change in the department" means she caused that change to happen, not that she merely influenced or affected something that already existed. This is different from "affect," which as a verb means "to have an impact on" something.

The space between the words (or lack thereof) does affect the meaning! "Everyday" is an adjective meaning ordinary, while "every day" means "each day." Ask yourself carefully which of the two you are using.

Remember, every day we can find everyday words used incorrectly!