At long last, America is doing what nutritionists, cardiologists, and the ghost of Julia Child have been begging us to do for decades: we’re boycotting McDonald’s. Not for the usual reasons—arterial cement shakes, meat that’s one existential crisis away from sentience, or fries that stay intact longer than most celebrity marriages—but because… freedom. Or wages. Or Palestine. Or maybe because someone saw a rainbow on a Happy Meal box. Frankly, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re in our boycott era, baby.
Let’s start with the obvious: McDonald’s has always been the edible version of giving up. It’s where dignity goes to marinate in processed cheese. So it’s only fitting that now, as America spirals into another round of performative outrage, Ronald & Co. become ground zero for revolution—or at least for aggressive tweeting with a side of smugness.
Why Are We Boycotting McDonald’s?
That depends on which corner of the internet you’re loitering in:
- The left is mad about McDonald’s alleged complicity in global injustice, labor exploitation, and whatever lobbyist wrote “tomato slice” into a law once.
- The right thinks Grimace is a drag queen and the McRib is Antifa.
- The centrists are just confused that you can’t get breakfast all day anymore.
But for all the reasons to boycott McDonald’s, here’s the real one: it’s time. They’ve been asking for this. You don’t get to traumatize three generations of kids with that haunted ball pit and still sell $9 “value meals” without consequences.
Let’s Talk Menu Karma
You want a Filet-O-Fish? Great, here’s your guilt sandwich with a side of soggy lettuce and evangelical fish-shame.
A McFlurry? It’s broken. The machine is always broken. It’s the Schrödinger’s Cat of dessert.
A salad? You mean the plastic box of wet lettuce they refrigerate next to the mop water?
This is a company that once sold a fitness tracker inside a Happy Meal. That’s like handing out condoms at a Catholic wedding. Mixed messaging, much?
The Real Clown Problem
Let’s talk about Ronald.
A man in full makeup, pantsless, luring children into buildings with dollar toys and the promise of chicken parts. We let this happen for decades. If Ronald McDonald existed today, he’d be on at least three registries and running for Senate in Florida.
He’s the OG influencer, selling us childhood obesity wrapped in red and yellow trauma. And now? He’s vanished. Suspiciously silent. Probably holed up with the Hamburglar in a bunker plotting a comeback with the Arby’s guy and Kid Rock.
What Comes Next?
If the boycott holds, here’s what we can expect:
- Grimace goes on OnlyFans.
- Mayor McCheese files for bankruptcy.
- McDonald’s replaces all beef with AI-generated “protein pods” made from recycled Amazon boxes and a single shrieked memory of a cow.
- Republicans propose the “Patriot Patty Act,” declaring fast food boycotts a national security risk.
- Liberals suggest replacing Happy Meals with “Therapy Meals,” which include a weighted napkin and a QR code for a trauma podcast.
But Will It Last?
Of course not. Americans are addicted to the dopamine hit of convenience. We will crawl back like a jilted ex during a fry sale. There will be weeping. There will be Shamrock Shakes. There will be late-night regret wrapped in wax paper. And we’ll call it patriotism.
The truth is, McDonald’s isn’t the villain. It’s the mirror. And right now, that mirror is greasy, smudged with barbecue sauce, and judging you in fluorescent lighting.
So go ahead, boycott them. For Palestine. For worker’s rights. For your pancreas. Just don’t pretend you weren’t complicit in this deep-fried nightmare the first 37 times you ordered a McGriddle and called it breakfast.
And remember: every empire falls. Even the one with a playplace.