expiredmilkn lies blogs

Drive through a small town in the 90s and you’ll see them — Dollar Generals multiplying like rabbits on Red Bull. One by the gas station, one across from the church, another by the trailer park. Like Monopoly pieces scattered across the board.

When I was younger and a little less financially secure, Dollar General was basically my grocery store. On Friday nights, when money was tight, I’d wander the aisles like it was a casino. Do I gamble on off-brand cereal that tasted like cardboard, or risk milk with an expiration date so close I might need a priest to bless it? Spoiler: I went with the milk. Regretted it two hours later.

And it’s never just groceries. Walk in for toothpaste and you’d leave with duct tape, flip-flops, and beef jerky that looked like it was marinated in lighter fluid. A fever dream of random crap under buzzing fluorescent lights.

But here’s the scam — Dollar General doesn’t build in wealthy suburbs. They target poor towns, dropping stores until they choke out the only real grocery. Then they own the block. You’re not saving money — you’re trapped.

Dollar General is one giant carton of Expired Milk & Lies. The lies are on the bright yellow signs screaming “savings,” while the milk in the cooler is two days from curdling. The real rot is the business model — a poverty trap disguised as convenience.