The Mascot Massacre: A Creator's Rebellion Against Cannabis Marketing Hypocrisy

There I was in 6th grade, bowl cut and Metallica t-shirt, swiping my dad's 6-pack of Red Dog from his basement lair—or as I called it, the boiler room that even Freddy Krueger himself wouldn't venture into. Did I grab it because of the illustrious red dog on the can? No. I just wanted to finally taste what made my dad pass out in his La-Z-Boy every Friday night while wearing his Fruit of the Loom underwear and yellow-stained undershirt.

We ran to the nearby baseball field, crushed two beers, got ripped, rolled down a hill repeatedly, puked in a trash can, and stumbled home looking like an extra from Night of the Living Dead.

My point is that kids will always find what they're looking for. This idea that mascots on cannabis packaging is "unfathomable" or the "gateway" to some bleak meaningless existence while alcohol mascots run wild is ridiculous.

I can examine it further with professional sports. At every championship game, what are the athletes doing? Cigars and champagne in a celebratory fashion? But aren't those same athletes the posters on your kids' walls influencing them to be athletes while also influencing them to smoke cigars and drink champagne? You see where I'm going with this – it's a slippery slope and one that I'm happy to slide down to express my complete disdain on the matter.

The Art of Rebellion

As one of the creators of Purrple Alien, it breaks my black heart knowing customers only get to see a version without our deliriously hilarious character Purrple Alien. I spend many hours crafting each design, building specific art pieces for people to fully immerse themselves in while engaging in their... extracurricular activities. (You mean getting high, don't you?)

The creative process of taking Purrple Alien and throwing him into wild scenes, crafting unique names for each product - it's like releasing albums. Each product is special, designed to stand out on shelves across the United States (and hopefully Europe... at this point, I'd settle for Canada. Insert Super Troopers "I'm freaking out man" scene).

Inside Dracula's Castle of Sugary Glowsticks

I'm obsessive about my creative process. Each design is packed with easter eggs because my brain won't let me do it any other way. I know I'm a lot to handle, a lot to understand, and the level of my insanity probably needs its own rating system. When I enter the lab (aka Dracula's Castle of Sugary Glowsticks), I'm laser-focused on cramming as many elements as possible into our allocated square inches. Your art dielines define the space – now go absolutely mental within these boundaries.

The Melon Basher Legacy

Melon Basher - it's like a swan dive into a pool of lemonade that got a cannon ball from a giant watermelon that jumped in the shallow end (not realizing it wasn't the deep end) and shattered into a million delicious pieces, giving you hope for humanity with every sip.

On our website, you can still see the old can design: Purrple Alien as a farmer, crushing a watermelon, being a complete lunatic having a great ol' time. It sparks conversations when you're going intergalactic with your pals:

"Why's he a farmer?" "What's he really thinking about?" "Do you think Purrple Alien even lifts?"

These are the dumb fun conversations that immerse you in bright, psychedelic colors, making you feel like you're reliving Woodstock as Hendrix burns his guitar. Until you realize you're just in your lame backyard talking to squirrels you thought were your neighbors (too many Melon Bashers make you go weee).

The $30,000 Lesson

More brands pumping out god-awful, simplistic, minimalistic packaging. Line up 30 cans of infused beverages. What makes you question your sanity? What makes you want to snap a picture and share it with your friends? Honestly, probably not much—and that's a bummer.

I remember trying to help build this CBD startup in Arizona, about two years before Purrple Alien. Kelly (my fiancé) and I had this compelling idea for a Greek goddess concept. We crafted an entire storyline and visual aesthetic that could've redefined how people see CBD brands. Instead, they hired a $30,000 branding agency that produced the most cookie-cutter nonsense - a black box with a blue letter. Thirty grand for that shit? Seriously?

The validation came during a Zoom call with a respected brand developer. When I showed him our first Purrple Alien design, he lost it. "This is what I'm talking about. This is so you—forget that other brand, you need to do this now."

The Creative Rebellion Continues

I hate restrictions. These creative chains drag my hyperactive mind into slow-draining boredom. But within those constraints, I'll create something so memorable it'll haunt your dreams. I weave together fragments of pop culture, art, and absurdity that demand time to fully grasp. At first glance, you'll see it, but do you actually "get it?" Chances are you won't – that's the whole point. That's the fun.

The Bottom Line

Branding agencies are trash (90% of them). Cannabis mascot legislation is dumb when alcohol mascots roam free. It's a double standard that has never been justified to my satisfaction. If you've got an answer, I welcome it. Please send your hate mail to my DMs - I'll be excited to publicly shame myself for my horrific views on the matter at hand.

For now, I'm going to head to the liquor store and grab a 6-pack of expired Red Dog JUST because.

Mike Casavant

#CannabisMarketing #AlcoholIndustry #BeverageIndustryBusiness #PackagingDesign #MarketingStrategy #MarketingHumor #BeverageIndustry #CreativeWriting