I didn't write this, but its both funny and almost true...lol
Buckle up, because if you’re rolling through Pennsylvania and manage to pronounce every single one of these names without stopping for directions, you’ve basically beaten the state’s secret language exam.
First stop is Bryn Mawr, where it sounds like you’re clearing your throat but it’s actually just Main Line fancy talk. Then you cruise into Wilkes-Barre, which is pronounced twelve different ways depending on how many Yuenglings the guy has had at the bar that night. Hit Schuylkill, where the river itself is named after the sound your car makes when it hits a giant pothole. Then there’s Bala Cynwyd, which looks like a cheat code but is actually just “Ball-uh Kin-wood” said at 40mph.
By the time you get to Duquesne, you’re wondering why half the letters are silent and if the French ever apologized. Swing through New Tripoli, where if you say it wrong the locals will politely tar and feather you with pierogi. Over in Tunkhannock, you can’t pronounce it right until you’ve eaten a hoagie the size of your head. Then comes Punxsutawney, where the groundhog gets it right but you still don’t.
In Tamaqua, every vowel takes a nap halfway through the word, so good luck with that. Susquehanna is where you finally lose your will to live halfway through the syllables. Allegheny sounds easy until someone from Pittsburgh corrects you with three extra vowels you didn’t know existed. And then Monongahela, which is less a name and more an endurance spor. You need electrolytes just to get through it.
If you can say them all back-to-back, PennDOT gives you a free EZPass and every deer in the state will salute to you before they jump in front of you.