Price capades

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 18 Comments
¿Juanita, hermana, qué te pasó?

While making a smallish grocery run today I snatched up a can of Juanita’s Mexican Style Hominy, which I like to have in the pantry in case I find myself in a mood for a pot of posole, prepared in lazy gabacho fashion.

But it didn’t look quite right. … and it wasn’t.

These suckers used to be 30 ounces. Now they’re 25. Last March 15, a can cost $2.99. Today, it cost $3.79. For 5 ounces less hominy.

Hmmm. Whatever could’ve happened? Wait for it. …

From foodnewswire.com, dated May 2, 2025

Apex Capital, a private equity firm focused on investing in the consumer sector across the Americas, is pleased to announce the acquisition of a majority stake in Juanita’s Foods, a leading producer of authentic Mexican food products in the United States.

Maybe this is why Juanita’s has been tough to find lately. For the last pot of posole I made I used canned white hominy from Goya Foods, whose CEO is a big fan of the pinche pendejo Charlie Pierce calls “El Caudillo del Mar-a-Lago.” The boss-fella’s breath may have a whiff of ass to it — ¿quien sabe? — but it was a 29-ounce can and it only cost $3.69.

In any event, while I can’t say for sure exactly when it happened, it sure seems like these capitalistas carroñeros from Apex Capital have done slipped the pork to my posole via shrinkflation.

Fuelishness 2: $3.89 for all my friends!

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments
Valero: $3.89
Circle K: $3.89
Speedway: $3.89
DK: $3.89

Everyone’s on the same page along Tramway Boulevard.

Way back in the Glory Days of Monday — remember that fabulous Monday? — a happy Duck! City motorist could gas up for $3.39 or $3.59 per gallon, depending on his/her choice of station.

On Saturday … not so much.

The going rate for a gallon of go-juice on Tramway today is $3.89, from Lomas to San Bernardino. Affordability is on the march, and soon the American public will be legging it around and about, too.

Just wait until Addled Hitler sinks Kharg Island, a small coral island off Iran’s coast that according to The Associated Press is “the primary terminal through which nearly all of Iran’s oil exports pass.” The Guardian has a nifty explainer, too.

Petras Katinas, an energy researcher at the Royal United Services Institute who calls Kharg “the main node” of the Iranian economy, said that if Iran were to lose control of the island, it would be difficult for the country to function, even though the island isn’t a military or nuclear target.

“It doesn’t matter which regime is in power — new or old,” Katinas said.

Oh, good. This is like blowing up a 7-Eleven and replacing it with a Circle K, only the Circle K has empty shelves, fuel pumps that don’t work, no employees, and an angry mob forming in the cratered parking lot with weapons in various calibers and configurations, craving a word with management.

Send Whiskey Pete Kegsbreath out to restore order. He can show them his tats. They can show him their rat-a-tat-tats.

His number didn’t come up

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 9 Comments
Our aeronaut was logging his flight time before Friday the 13th could have a go at clipping his wings.

A thousand thank-yous to everyone who wished Herself a happy (mumble-mumblth) birthday yesterday.

The eldest neighbor kid popped by after dinner to give her a hug and sing “Happy Birthday.” Lord, is she ever growing like a weed. A wee babe in arms she was when first we laid eyes on her, and what would become El Rancho Pendejo, during an open house back in the summer of 2014. And now she’s a middle-schooler as tall as Herself.

Earlier in the day, after cake for breakfast, Herself and I went for a 5K jog in the foothills, which is where we saw the paraglider above, setting up for a landing near the Menaul trailhead.

Fun to watch, but as pasatiempos go it’s not for me. Two broken ankles later when faced with a tall curb I long for an escalator.

Especially on Friday the 13th. I ain’t superstitious, but after 70-odd years of acting the fool from coast to coast, something — or Someone — is bound to be out to get me.

Let them eat cake

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 12 Comments
“Cake or death? Cake, please.”

By “them” I mean Herself, and by “cake” I mean “half a cinnamon roll,” and why on earth should Herself be eating cake for breakfast?

Because it’s her birthday, that’s why.

There was but a single candle on the “cake,” because record-low snowpack, record-high temperatures, drought continues, red-flag warnings, etc., et al., and so on and so forth. I lit it up and we hopped around the kitchen like crazed bunnies to The Beatles’ “Birthday,” blaring from a JBL Clip 2 fed a YouTube video by my iPhone 13 Mini. Can’t say we Revered Elders are helpless when it comes to managing all these doggone, consarned, newfangled whizbangs, whatchamacallits, and comosellamas, even the ones whose “new” is mostly wore off leaving only the “fangled” bits.

Once breakfast is in the rear view there will be a short trail run followed by some medium-light shopping, a lunch without so much cake in it, and a delicious dinner that may or not conclude with cake, depending upon whether we can get to The Range before they run out and/or close, which happens early in these dire days, when no one can afford gasoline, much less three servings of cake per diem.

You wouldn’t believe the tariff on cake. And you can trust me, because I’m in the media.

Fuelishness

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 34 Comments
Valero: $3.59
Circle K: $3.59
Speedway: $3.39
DK: $3.39

Gas prices on March 9 along Tramway Boulevard between Lomas and San Bernardino.

Monday’s chores were medium-heavy and I didn’t get a chance to ride until late afternoon.

It was going to have to be a short one, and I was thinking I should just go for a run instead.

But it was a gorgeous day — 77°! — and the forecast for today was looking a little less favorable. So I kitted up, grabbed the Rivendell Sam Hillborne, and set off for a brief inspection tour of gas prices at four stations along Tramway.

As you know, “the roaring economy is roaring like never before,” and though I’ve seen no signs of this at the grocery or anywhere else, The Pestilence says it is so and thus I must be mistaken. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I rarely drive, gassing up the ol’ rice rocket about once every three months or so. And lately I’ve quit collecting receipts because the pumps’ printers are usually on the fritz and damme if I’m stumbling into the kiosk to stand in line with the proles waiting to pay for their Slim Jims, malt-liquor 40s, and coffin nails, whatever they haven’t already shoplifted.

But I’m pretty sure that the last time I filled up — before we decided to bomb Iran into democracy — the price per gallon for regular was $2.83. And yesterday it was as you see above.

Winning? Your mileage may vary, as the fella says.

This may become a regular feature here at Ye Olde Dogge House. Feel free to chime in with the gas prices in your neck of “the roaring economy.” In the meantime, I have a year’s worth of grocery receipts to examine. I suspect that if there is any roaring to be heard as a consequence, it will be coming from me.

• Addendum: The Associated Press has a national roundup. Whoo, check them L.A. prices! I love L.A.!