“It’s just vulgar really…” Sarah Lucas

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.

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