Like I said, I grew up in the South. Georgia. Southwest Georgia. The poorest part of the state. My mother was a speech-language pathologist, so I was taught speech patterns and developed the ability to switch between a standard midwestern accent and a slow southern drawl. It still irks the hell out of me, though, to hear it, because it just sounds so ignorant.
My name is Brian. Bri-an. Two syllables. In the South, it's just one long syllable.
"Braaaaaahhhhnnnne." "Hey, Brahne." "Whutcha doin', Brahne."
Do you know how hard it is to explain to some backward-ass fvck that my name is not the same as pickle juice? That's brine.
I can remember, vividly, in third grade, some girl walking up to me and asking, "Brahne, why you tawk so funny?"