When Miami (st)Ink first premiered on the TLCz, I remember being all over the show like Kobe Bryant on a white girl. What made the show teh c00lz back in the day, was the same thing that makes tattoos (the show’s focus) cool: the mystery, the uniqueness, the HIV risk, the badass-ness.

In case you don’t do (i.e. can’t afford) cable, Miami (st)Ink is a reality-ish show which features tattoo artists running a shop in Miami (ami ami). The show is awesome because it allows you to see some badass artists bringing their artistic creations to life (wtf did I just say that?!) on the bodies of some of Miami’s hottest and most toned-up strippers and roid monkeys.

While I must admit that I was quite horny for this show when it first came out, as I began watching more and more episodes, my relationship with Miami (St)Ink began to mirror one you’d have with an overly emotional crazy bitch you meet while blazed out of your mind at a party. I’m talking about the girl you meet through some friends who seems cool, interesting, hot and exotic at first, only to reveal to you later on that she’s one of them “my life sucks I cut myself wah wah” types.

My Haterade with Miami (St)Ink comes in four flavors, so let’s get it on, yo.

1. (St)inky Clients

My first problem with Miami (st)Ink has to do with the ridiculous reasons the clients give for getting their tattoos. In order to break the awkwardness of hugging up on a dude’s arm for 2 hours, the tattoo artist inevitably always asks their client something like

So…why are you getting this tattoo of Santa Claus in a thong, holding a flounder?

At this point, rather than being honest and admitting that they’re high and flounders are fucking awesome, the stripper/juice monkey being tattered comes up with some ridiculous and elaborate backstory to the whole shit. Something like

Well, as a child I was abused and Santa Claus represents my lost childhood. The thong symbolizes my grown up, sexy side. Also I lost my brother to cancer *tear* …and the flounder is a symbol for prosperity and hope. When I look at this tattoo *tear*, I will think of him and it will bring a smile to my face and I will know that .

Bitch please. How you gonna tell me that a fish represents anything more to you than a delicious accompaniment to fries? Nemo isn’t concerned about representing your dead brother. Shit, if Nemo manages to eat, shit, bust a nut all over the river and then be grilled by Iron Chef Masahara Morimoto, that’s good enough!

2. (St)inky Artists

Equally annoying are the floating head interview shots on the show, which feature the tattoo artists talking to the camera 1 on 1 about some random garbage to kill time between commercial breaks. These sequences usually feature Ami James and the gang discussing such general-ass topics as death, love, heartache and other depressing-ass shit and how it’s supposedly related to tattooing.

Meanwhile, as they talk, they repeatedly either flex their shirtless bods, show off their tats or touch themselves. As they do so, the camera often zooms in on their angry/serious-looking faces, which I guess are supposed to make me take them more seriously when they tell me some obvious shit like “I think death is a natural part of life”.

OMGZ death exists within life?! Truly some higher level thinking right there, Mr. James. Shit, this reptile-looking d-bag must be the resurrection of Tupac or something. NOT. Stick to your day job, Ami. And while you’re at it, go to Target and get yourself a sweater or something.

Seriously, the whole touching your barely clothed upper body while talking to the camera thang is straight up homo erotic (refer to blog photo). If I wanted to see some bald, angry, tattered, Affliction-wearing white dude get his George Michael on, I’d watch a UFC marathon or something (is it just me or are ‘manlier’ sports also the ones with the most half-naked man2man gropeage action? But that’s another blog post).

3. (St)inky Tattoos

Although the show certainly features its share of freakazoid clients getting some random-ass tattoos, more often than not, I tune in only to see some regular-ass people getting some regular-ass work done.

I’m talking about the koy fishies, the Jesus tats, the tulips and all that other generic garbage. Shit, I heard that these Miami (St)Ink dudes work and film only 3 days a week and to book an appointment with them and get on the air involves months of waiting, thousands of dollars down and some sort of selection process. They obviously get some major bizness and with major bizness in the tattoo world, there must come some major freaks wanting to get some mind-blowing shit tattered on their skin.

So while I appreciate the odd 500 pound dude named Tiny who used to be a woman being featured on the show, more often than not, all I see is some chick named Cindy from Idaho getting some fish I don’t give a fuck about on her belly because she misses her sister. I don’t care about Cindy! Instead, show me some vampire-looking bitch getting the Kool-Aid man inked on her back or somethin’! OOOOOOOOH YEAHHHHHHH.

4. (St)inky Spin-offs

My final beef with Miami (st)Ink is a simple one: the aftermath. Since this show caught fire, there have been nothing but sub-par spin-offs trying to replicate its douchebaggery success.

First there was LA (st)Ink, which featured the exact same concept, but with ugly, old and annoying women. This show not only provided fans with the same bullshit clients, tattoos and emotional drama of Miami (st)Ink, but on the side, allowed us to dwell into the boring world of shop owner Kat Von Douche, as she dealt with her mundane personal life.

And if fans prefer an even more extreme level of boring and mundane, there’s always London (st)Ink. This one’s particularly good for naptime.