Art Is Like A Lover Whom You

They Grew Really Quickly. One Minute I Didn't Have Any Tits And The Next I Had The Biggest Tits In The World.

I Thought It Would Be My One And Only Exhibition So I Decided To Call It My Major Retrospective.

Criticism On My Works Is Like This: You've Worked Hard All Of Your Life, You Went To Oxford, And You've Done This And That, And You're An Art Critic. Your Job Is To Unravel The "secret" Or Whatever, And You Come Across An Entity Like Me. It's Going To Piss You Off. Because There's No Great Secret, What You See Is What You Get, And Anyone Can Understand What I'm Doing. So, It's Almost Like I Make This Critic-person Redundant, Just By My Attitude, And They Resent Me For That.

I Have Hardly Any Friends Who Aren't Gay

There's So Much Stuff Said About Me That's Not True, So Now If Something Is Hurtful And Wrong, I Send An E-mail Or Letter Immediately, Saying, This Is Not True.