Sarah Lucas, Britain’s art representative on earth, had the effrontery to use the phrase, “It’s just vulgar really…” not about her own work, but of Hirst’s diamond-encrusted skull.
However, aren’t shiny nobs (her word), penises, penes, cocks, dicks, dongs, tools, pricks, John Thomases, knobs, schlangs, peckers, buds, one-eyed trouser snakes, members, wangs, cigarettes up the orifice truly vulgar?
Her work is simply passe and tawdry not shocking. It’s not even worth a schooboy chortle behind the bikeshed. It’s like a drunken old harridan making clumsy lipstick – smeared passes at young men. It’s like those dated Carry On films and saucy old seaside postcards without any humour.
Frankly, it’s toe-curlingly embarassing and as tasteless and unappealing as a cold fied egg . What a yolk.