The State You're In

31/07/2025

A fancy NC wedding is just a pig pickin with pound cake & past flings.

30/07/2025

Sketti & Meatballs + Juicy Bread 🍝

30/07/2025

Took him for a 10 min walk & hes be laying like this for the last hour 😆

30/07/2025

I GOT KICKED OUTTA THE CRACKER BARREL IN ROCKY MOUNT FOR TRYIN 2 MAKE BISCUIT GRAVY IN THE BATHROOM
👴🏽🚽💥🍽️

LISTEN. I HAD A VISION.
A CALLIN. A DIVINE REVELATION BETWEEN MY STOMACH AND THE SPIRIT OF MY GREAT AUNT THELMA
WHO ONCE COOKED 47 BISCUITS ON THE HOOD OF A CHEVY CAPRICE IN ’89
🔥🚗🍞

I WALKED IN WITH A ZIPLOC BAG FULLA FLOUR
3 SAUSAGE PATTIES IN MY SOCK
AN A PLASTIC SPATULA I GOT FROM A BINGO NIGHT IN DORTCHES
🍖🧦💼🎰

I POLITELY ASKED THE HOSTESS "WHERE’S YALLS MOST SPIRITUALLY ALIGNED BATHROOM STALL"
SHE SAID "WE ONLY HAVE TWO"
SO I PICKED THE ONE THAT SMELLED LIKE REGRET AN LEMON PLEDGE

THAT’S WHEN I WENT TO WORK
🎯🛠️🍳

I SET UP A CAMP STOVE ON TOP OF THE TOILET PAPER DISPENSER
STARTED WHISKIN FLOUR WITH A FORK I FOUND IN THE PARKIN LOT
POURED MILK FROM A CARTON I HAD TUCKED IN MY CARGO SHORTS

I WAS JUST ADDIN THE SAUSAGE CRUMBLES WHEN MANAGEMENT KICKED THE DOOR OPEN
SAID "SIR THIS IS NOT A TEST KITCHEN"
I SAID "NEITHER WAS MY GRANDMAMA’S FRONT PORCH BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP HER FROM MAKIN HISTORY"
🍽️🏆🚪💅🏽

THEY STARTED YELLIN
I STARTED YELLIN
A BABY IN THE NEXT STALL STARTED CRYIN
THE GRAVY WAS THICKENIN

I SAID “DO U EVEN KNOW WHO GREAT AUNT THELMA WAS”
THEY SAID “SIR PLEASE PUT THE LADLE DOWN”

I GOT ESCORTED OUT
GRAVY IN MY BEARD
SOUL INTACT
🤠🫡🌪️

TO THIS DAY I’M BANNED FROM THAT LOCATION
BUT I HEAR THE JANITOR SAID THE GRAVY WAS “ACTUALLY KINDA GOOD”
AND THAT’S ENOUGH 4 ME 💯🍽️🛐

30/07/2025

This & some ice cole mirk

30/07/2025

why nc be like that

30/07/2025

30/07/2025

We’ve seen some things. The kind that make the hair on your arm stand up before your brain even catches up.

That glowing gold light floating across the railroad tracks in Fremont? We’ve seen the Fremont Light with our own eyes. Not once. Not maybe. But clear as a lantern swinging through the pines with nobody holding it.

We’ve stood on the side of Brown Mountain too, watching those lights dance across the ridge like spirits with somewhere to be. No campfires. No flashlights. Just silence and something old flickering in the distance.

And down in Chatham County, at the Devil’s Tramping Ground, we swear something was watching us while we stood there in that baren place. Perfect circle. No plants. No peace. Just a feeling in your gut that says you’re not supposed to linger.

North Carolina might be known for barbecue, beaches, and basketball, but don’t get it twisted. We’ve got ghost stories older than your grandma’s cast iron.

So now it’s your turn. Have you ever had a supernatural experience in North Carolina?

👻

30/07/2025

Every year like clockwork, we’d have a family reunion right here in North Carolina.

One pig, one old oil drum pig cooker, and a whole lot of love.

My uncles were the pit crew. They’d gather the night before, standing around that hog like it was the center of the universe, slow-cooking it over coals they’d been tending since mid-afternoon. No shortcuts. No fancy gadgets. Just wood smoke, hard work, and know-how passed down like an heirloom.

They’d tuck whole chickens around the edges of the fire. Not for the crowd. Just for them. A little midnight snack to keep the fire burning and their strength up for the long night ahead. And while the hog cooked low and slow, they’d pull out the Rook cards and play hand after hand with nothing but laughter and stories for company. Not a phone in sight. Just old-school North Carolina grit, grace, and good times.

By the time morning came, the work had only just begun. You had to prep it, chop it, season it right. That hog didn’t just fall apart by accident. It was pulled and picked with care, mixed with just the right amount of vinegar, red pepper, and love so it’d be ready when the rest of the family came rolling in.

The next day was the feast. Mason jars sweating with sweet tea. Tables buckling under the weight of homemade slaw, potato salad, hushpuppies, and banana pudding. Kids chasing each other around the trees. Old folks trading stories and debating whether Lexington or Eastern NC style was best, though we all knew the answer.

But more than the food, it was the feeling. The knowing you belonged somewhere. That you were part of something. That this, smoke in the air, sauce on your fingers, and family all around.

It was something beautiful, that at the time, we took for granted.

Anybody else grow up with a pig pickin’ like that? Let me hear your favorite memory.

30/07/2025

The coffee’s been on since 4:30, the gossip since 4:35.

Walk into any southern small town diner worth its weight in grease and you’ll get hit with three things right off the bat: the smell of bacon, the sound of laughter, and a “Hey there, hon” before you even sit down.

Your booth’s already wiped down, your coffee cup’s already waiting, and Miss Loretta’s hollerin’ to the kitchen, “He’ll take the usual, tenderloin and hoop cheese biscuit, side of grits, and a whole lotta gravy.” You ain’t seen a menu in years and wouldn’t know what to do with one if it showed up.

There’s a group of retirees in the corner arguing about the rain that might be coming Tuesday, a farmer in mud caked boots ordering two breakfasts “for the road,” and someone’s grandpa holding court by the register like he owns the deed to the place.

Nobody’s in a rush. The biscuits take their time, and so does the conversation.
Someone’s bragging about how their grandson caught a catfish “big as a toddler,” while someone else is whispering that Linda brought store bought banana pudding to the potluck and tried to pass it off as homemade.

The air’s thick with bacon grease, butter, and trust.

It ain’t fancy. It’s just home.

30/07/2025

"who got u smiling at ur phone"

me i am posting dumb stuff

30/07/2025

Transplants, if you could change 1 thing about NC, what would it be...