Hall of Flowers Doubles Down on Abusers: After Chris Brown Backlash - P. Diddy Tapped as Guest Speaker

By Boof du Jour’s Field Correspondent, Currently Hiding Behind a 3D-Printed Weed Bong in Santa Rosa

SANTA ROSA, CA — I’m typing this with my back pressed against a fake moss wall and the overwhelming stench of desperation disguised as “terpene mist” blowing directly into my eyes. Across the expo floor, P. Diddy is mid-stride — white fur flapping, sunglasses on indoors, gripping two mylar bags like they contain the last remaining shreds of his dignity.

This is not a drill.
This is Hall of Flowers 2025, where cannabis culture has officially OD’d on itself.

After last year’s Chris Brown fiasco — where the DJ-slash-domestic-abuser tried to rebrand as a cannabis “healer” — you’d think the event would scale back the controversy. Maybe book someone a little less radioactive. Like a local grower. Or a golden retriever.

Instead? They tapped Diddy — fresh off Homeland Security raids, lawsuits, and enough baggage to sink a yacht full of lawyers — as their guest fucking speaker.

He opened his keynote with, “Cannabis is the new music industry — and I’m here to own both.”
And that was probably the most honest thing said all day.

Scene Report: Culture in Crisis

The moment Diddy hit the stage — draped in a REVOLT x Runtz hoodie and shadowed by a guy in a Mylar costume labeled “Combs Kush Coming Q4” — the energy in the room plummeted like Trulieve stock after a Bloomberg mention.

Someone clapped.
Someone else audibly gagged.
One woman from a New York edibles startup whispered, “I’m gonna lose my license just for being in the same zip code.”

Backstage, sources confirmed security pre-screened attendees for known protestors and “anyone with an opinion.” Vendors were told to “focus on product, not people,” which is event-speak for “don’t mention the lawsuits unless you're hotboxing them.”

The Optics Are Cooked

I spoke with a budtender from Oakland who applied to speak on cannabis access in underserved communities. Her panel got cut two weeks before the show.

“I guess they needed the time for a billionaire to talk about generational wealth,” she said, holding back a full-body eye-roll.
“Maybe next year I’ll just assault someone and release a gummy line.”

A vendor rep from LA chimed in:
“I used to think this show was about innovation. Now it’s just a celebrity rehab circuit with QR codes.”

Someone tried to explain to a confused group of Canadian buyers who Diddy even was. They left early.

Meanwhile, in VIP

Diddy skipped the press Q&A, exiting stage left into a fenced-off “executive lounge” where he reportedly asked for “a lighter, a blunt, and a list of who’s mad right now.” A whisper chain from the catering tent said he referred to the backlash as “weed Twitter having menopause.”

By the time I caught up to him outside — mid-parking lot escape — he was stuffing product samples into a Supreme tote and moving with the urgency of a man who just remembered he’s under federal investigation.

Flashbulbs popped.
He flinched.
A half-open bag labeled “Harlequin x Harlem Shake” flew out of his hand and landed in front of a guy in a Cookies tee, who picked it up and said, “Yo this shit’s 13%.”

Final Puff

Hall of Flowers has gone full PR kamikaze. This isn’t event strategy — this is brand-assisted reputational suicide.

Booking Diddy after Chris Brown isn’t just tone-deaf — it’s a neon-lit admission that attention matters more than accountability. That the only “equity” they care about is the kind measured in Instagram reels, not real outcomes. The flowers are fake. The vibes are worse. The ethics have been run through a trim machine and left out to dry.

If 2026’s keynote is OJ Simpson launching a pre-roll called “If the Glove Fits OG,” I won’t be shocked — I’ll just bring a helmet.

Boof du Jour will remain posted up at the edge of the crater, mic in one hand, cease-and-desist in the other. Pray for the brands. Hide your panels. Tip your trauma-informed terp slinger.

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