The Ozempic Games: A Billboard, A City, A Cease & Desist
Los Angeles woke up this week to a new monument—not to Hollywood, not to wellness, not to God, but to the chaotic cocktail of all three.
A billboard appeared over the 101 freeway bearing a now-familiar word: OZEMPIC.
Wrapped in the five Olympic rings like a pharma-sponsored fever dream.
Some thought it was an ad. Others thought it was a prank.
And a few Very Important People thought it was a lawsuit.
Guess which one made it to my inbox?
Welcome to the Games
The installation (if we can call it that?) became a Rorschach test for the entire city:
Drivers slowed down, squinting: “Wait—is Ozempic sponsoring the Olympics?”
Influencers reposted it, unsure if it was real but thrilled to pretend it was.
Pharma Twitter got uncomfortable.
Lawyers got… productive.
Within 48 hours, I’d received two formal letters.
One from Regency Outdoor, whose billboard had been in deep hibernation for the better part of a decade.
And the other? From the International Olympic Committee.
But Why So Nervous?
Well—maybe, just maybe—the Olympic Committee wasn’t just protecting rings.
Maybe they were protecting relationships.
Turns out, Eli Lilly—maker of Ozempic’s main competitor, Mounjaro—is one of LA28’s biggest commercial partners.
So was this about trademark confusion?
Or was this about advertiser anxiety?
You can’t have rogue street artists hijacking the brand narrative when there are nine-figure pharma checks in play.
Did I Do It?
I won’t confirm or deny anything.
But I will say this:
The billboard didn’t ask for permission.
It just showed up like a pharmaceutical Messiah—slim, polished, and ready for your insides.
If that feels confusing, good.
Confusion is the last honest emotion in a world of over-branded clarity.
What’s It All Mean?
It means:
LA is the perfect city to question what’s real.
Ozempic is the new icon of American self-editing.
The Olympics aren’t about sports—they’re about symbols.
And I, apparently, am still a threat with just a visual and a concept.
No product. No QR code. No CTA.
Just a billboard and a cultural tremor.
Legal Threats Are the New Retweets
Here’s the thing:
If you get a cease & desist, you’re either:
Selling counterfeit T-shirts
Or making actual art
Sometimes both.
So as LA drives under this accidental altar to body obsession and brand anxiety, remember:
You can inject away hunger, but you can’t inject away culture.
That still requires… an artist.
See you on the freeway.
— Jesushands