Eee bah goom, if brehhhns were goonpaoohhder, you'd not 'ave enoof ter blohhhh yer 'at off.
That just reminded me: last December I was working at a pizza restaurant taking phone orders (...for two days...
I have a phobia of talking on the phone!) and this elderly Scottish lady rang up asking for a main-sized Calabrese pasta.
Me: Good evening, how may I help you?
Her: I'd like a meen calabreeeeze.
Me: Okay, a main calabrese ('cala-bray-zee'); was there anything else?
Her: No, a meen calabreeeeze.
Me: Yes, a main calabrese. Was that all?
Her: No, a MEEEEEN CALABREEEEEEEEEZE!!
Me: Yes, I've got a main 'calabreeze'...
Her: MEEEEEEEEN CALABREEEEEEEEEZE!!!!
Me [getting very worried and about to have a panic attack]: Um...okay, a main cala-
Her [very exasperated]: Look, can I speak to somebody else?
[I hand the phone to one of the other girls and go off and bawl my eyes out in the bathroom...]