When your name becomes comedic roadkill in a Ryan Reynolds anecdote, it’s safe to say you've slid to the lower rungs of Hollywood's social ladder.
Meghan Markle found herself the butt of a joke—not in a blockbuster film, not during a Twitter spat, but casually, and almost too easily, on a podcast. Yes, Reynolds served the roast on Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend, and Meghan was the main course. It all started when Ryan was reminiscing about his father's career shift from police officer to food broker. As a kid, he misunderstood the job, imagining his dad was some sort of secret agent. In reality, he was just a middleman for jars of jam.
That’s when Conan pounced, slipping in a jab suggesting Reynolds’ dad worked for Meghan Markle. He delivered it in a whimsical tone, painting a surreal picture of miniature, boutique jams sourced from Montecito oils. Reynolds didn’t miss a beat, quipping that if his late father were still alive, he’d be Meghan Markle. Then, as if realizing the dig might’ve cut a little too deep, he backpedaled slightly with a “Well… adjacent.” Classic celebrity clean-up maneuver—minimize, soften, deflect.
Let’s not pretend this was all innocent banter. The jab wasn’t a throwaway fruit spread pun—it was intentional. Meghan has become Hollywood’s favorite punchline, a name people drop not to impress but to elicit groans or laughter. For Reynolds, who’s spoken publicly about his difficult relationship with his temperamental father, comparing him to Meghan was more than a joke—it was shade dense enough to block the sun.
Meanwhile, while Reynolds was tossing out tart jabs, a more complex drama was allegedly unfolding behind the scenes. Rumors suggest Blake Lively is embroiled in legal issues with Justin Baldoni, the director adapting It Ends With Us. Gossip has it that she even tried to coerce Taylor Swift into backing her using the threat of leaked emails. In response, Reynolds appears to have executed a textbook PR distraction, tossing Meghan Markle under the bus to divert attention. Sacrifice the Duchess, change the narrative, and hope no one looks too closely at the mess bubbling in his own celebrity kitchen.
Ironically, Ryan and Meghan share more similarities than either would likely admit. Both have engineered tightly curated public personas, both married into more prominent fame, and both now paddle through scandals with practiced nonchalance. The joke itself? Not exactly clever. It was lazy, easy, a bit like slipping on a banana peel and declaring it satire.
Meghan's been a convenient target ever since she traded palace life for wellness branding and podcasting. Now she’s reduced to a late-night laugh line. It’s a strange twist of fate for someone who once aimed to redefine modern royalty through carefully crafted content. In truth, Ryan's jab wasn't just about humor—it was a petty, strategic deflection from more pressing controversies of his own. But congratulations are in order, Meghan. You've officially become the cultural shorthand for overreached ambition and lukewarm relevance. When even Deadpool uses you as comedic filler, it might be time to step back from the spotlight.
