Sick Bitch Crips – are back and frantically rummaging up their nasal passages to find olfactory ensheathing cells (OECs) that will transform them into Hussein Bolt.
They don’t understand all the fuss but apparently taking teeny tiny steps, and hobbling along with calipers and a walking frame, is even more impressive than man landing on the moon.
Sick Bitch Crips, proudly admit that they are helpless and pathetic, defined by their trolleys permanently – and they love it unashamedly – but secretly they are bi-curious bona fide bitches.
The Sick Bitch Crips are currently dabbling in Coke and have aspirations to join the foot and mouth painting disease club in time for the Christmas rush. They are delighted to premiere their first brave attempt which will make hearts bleed and have devotees weeping all over their smocks.
The painting entitled “100 Days to Defecate This Shit” is their first heroic experiment to smear oil on canvas with their tongue. In this action painting think Annie Sprinkle’s Tit Prints mixed with Stuart Brisley’s Museum of Ordure.
Sick Bitch Crips were born without heads arms and feet and minus skeletons, a rare condition more commonly known as SMA (Smothering Mother’s Aureole). They hope to inspire the disabled to be crafty but are aware that very few sick disabled people have any artistic merit, or indeed any merit at all.
SBC are expecting to raise much needed awareness and funds for their hot appeals: ‘Forgive Mummy for Killing Her Floppy Babies & It’s Okay to Kill Paralympians’. Just like the Ebola virus, they want their appeals to spread as much as possible, and with SBC coming from the developed world this will be a doddle.
Katherine Araniello was invited and paid £25,000 to make a live art intervention for Together 2013. She was given a brief: “do whatever you want”, so she went straight to Soho House for inspiration and champagne.
Several weeks later after rehab, she decided that the only person she’s really interested in is herself. So the art would be about her and she would interview herself live on screen. This amazing solution of mixing video and live performance was so original and us Sick Bitch Crips are truly in awe of our wonderful creator.
She spent weeks rehearsing for the perfect answers to the perfect art questions and we couldn’t have answered them better ourselves.
Her dynamic voice with her clear cut responses and enthusiasm for her own practice was undeniably clear and precise.
We are disappointed however that there was no apparent humour in Araniello’s work and we were confused by the naked girl swinging on a wrecking ball in her studio. We didn’t understand her Candy Crush reference or its relationship with art. Advocating euthanasia is something that us Sick Bitch Crips have always been proud of and we are appreciative that Araniello continues to spread the message that we all want to die as a result of our debilitating conditions and incapacity to function like normal people.
We were ecstatic that Araniello plugged herself repeatedly and our idol was simultaneously live and on screen. We were on the edge of our seats bombarded with a cacophony of surprises and visual spectacle.
We are desperate to see this work again and are delighted to announce that ‘The Artist Interview’ will be happening again
at The Old Town Hall, 29 The Broadway, Stratford, London E15 4BQ
Thursday 19 December 6.30-9pm: (End of festival party)
It is an absolute drain on one’s resources, having to meet strict deadlines, accept commissions and say yes to every invitation, but the good news is I have managed to surreptitiously miss a month of composing my cutting-edge text.
The DAO fan base was frozen in time and made no demands on me to update this blog. So despite the severe lack of interest here are my latest irresistible musings.
I was recently invited to be an ArtsAdmin associate artist – which of course I accepted with little or no hesitation.
On the 3rd of October from 6pm until 10pm I will be one of the selected artists showing a film At the Nunnery, London, please click on this link for details:
SBC (SickBitchCrip) are currently jigging overseas, apparently somewhere in Canada in a virtual Cripping Cyberspace contemporary online gallery. For more details please click on this link.
Cripping Cyberspace: A Contemporary Virtual Art Exhibition, probably the most accessible gallery in the world. Read all about Sick Bitch Crip ‘Dance’ and experience their latest video. Watch those digitally manipulated Bitches, smash, bang, twist and spin.
SBC's bespoke designs are driven by sickly disability, overindulgence, fags, booze, greed and branding. They have mutated into three entities; Sick, Bitch and Crip. Their crippled profiles are absurdly preposterous and their online presence has gone viral. They are in a complete world of their own, albeit a virtual one.
My website has survived a fantastic makeover. To go there please click on this link.
Finally SBC insist that they are at their most creatively fecund when listening intensively to the incomparable voice of Demis Roussos haranguing ‘Forever and Ever’ on vinyl.
Sick – is an iconic wheelchair-bound living miracle and is the proud host of a multitude of debilitating diseases. She is still breathing and lives life to the full despite her many conflictions. She holds the world record for being the sickest cripple ever and she has no intentions of letting anyone in with a chance of snatching this prestigious title. Everyone adores her and she is a Sick celebrity lapping up all the sympathy and pity she can muster.
Bitch – has a disproportionate over inflated ego and fiery tits. She dreams of being crippled and is desperate to hunt down a surgeon who will snap her spinal cord to stop her legs from wriggling. In frenzied acts of self-destruction to make her dream come true she will do anything to lame herself, yet tragically all attempts of crippling herself to smithereens have failed. Every day is a struggle but she is determined that one day she will successfully disable herself and steal the limelight from Sick.
Crip - is a product of her own self-indulgence. Her greasy fatty fried festering look and sit still and do sweet fuck all attitude has rendered her into a piss guzzling, fast food obsessed junkie. Her assistant lap dog bitch named Gob, is determined to gobble all the crap that Crip shoves down her gullet. The other two bitches have their eyes on Crip in fear that one day she may consume them and become the ultimate Sick Bitch Crip. Crip is fantastic at playing the Crip card and has a natural gift for pulling at the heartstrings and making people weep.
SickBitchCrips are the greatest thing that the world could ever want. Introducing ‘Sick’ the cripple that everyone wants to be…
SickBitchCrips, growth in popularity is increasing every second – meet ‘Bitch’, you know you want to be her – everyone’s favourite and everyone’s secret little desire…
SickBitchCrips elevating high above their contemporaries, introducing ‘Crip’ the epitome of success and envy of many…
Sponsorship deals are currently in negotiation with McDonald’s, Marlboro lights, Heinz baked beans, Tesco’s Value Lager, the Daily Mail and the Queen.
‘A Fistful of Froth’ it’s so bad it's good! Watch the video!
SBC (SickBitchCrip) is fit and healthy but also understands she is lame and sick.
It isn't fair that the state does not recognise her need to feed her devoted Chihuahuas on caviar and chips. The economic climate is against her and she knows we are living in dangerous times. An individual cannot be expected to use art as a support mechanism to live a good quality of life. This is a self-indulgent trait of many artists who should go out and get a proper job and stop messing around with people's closeted mindsets.
SBC’s inspiration comes from Raffaella Carra in her 1978 hit 'Do it again'. The lyrics and tone are beautiful and give a clear message about art; ‘… don't ever start it if you can't stop’.
Other sources of inspiration come from herself.
A Fistful of Froth is full of love and hate and the spaghetti mishmash tells the story of bestiality, incest and murder. The juxtaposition of wheelchair and Whorehorse set against the backdrop of the Irish Potato Famine is charged with a sense of grandeur.
The sticky, slimy, gritty mess on the backside was dirty and required a good heart warming scrub to make it look shiny and new again. Once restored it was ready for action and as good as new – waiting to iron out those imperfections.
The plug had been pulled and Jemima was once again relieved that the battery on her breathing apparatus kicked in and she could continue watching Tiptoe Through The Tulips.
Little Miss Pity Crippy catapulted out of her chair onto the sodden ground and squashed all the insects that lay beneath her. She kept still and did not move a muscle, everyone around her thought she was dead but she was just faking it. Once recovered and craned back into her chariot she went about her daily business. The Chihuahuas remained intact and were not put off by their downfall. The lift on the coach is now fixed and safety procedures are now in place to ensure that the Beachy Head near fatal mishap never happens again.
Little Miss Pity Crippy sat on a wall
Eating her turds and whey,
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her
And pushed Little Miss Pity Crippy away
Little Miss Pity Crippy sat on the wall
Precious and delicate and perfectly still
Little Miss Pity Crippy had a great fall
All the king's horses and all the King's men
Couldn't make Little Miss Pity Crippy normal again
On an exceptionally gloomy, Easter Erection wet weekend, at the butt end of a bedroom tax demo, SickBitchCrips gayfully retreat to the Duke of York’s Theatre to gawp at Rupert Everett in the role as the talented Oscar Wilde in The Judas Kiss. After interminable inching backwards and forwards, SickBitchCrips are finally comfortable in the wheelchair spaces, allocated at the opposite ends of a row. Sadly they are unable to catapult themselves out of their prams into normal seats and therefore have to pay the price by seeing less than fifty percent of the action. The bed scenes displaying fanny, jugs and drooping dicks are out of sight for patrons confined to wheelchairs and on reflection SickBitchCrips are delighted that they have been denied cock at Easter.
The ageing theatre was indisputably built without consideration for its invalid patrons as the sick didn’t venture out much in those days. At the end of the performance the actors take a bow and announce that one of their crew will be running in the London Marathon shortly. The cast ambush the exit rattling and thrusting buckets to raise money for sick and delicate children. SickBitchCrips make a frenzied departure, swerving through the herd of lesbians/thespians, exiting the theatre, avoiding begging bowls and clinging on to their hard earned drug money.
SickBitchCrips are elated that they have outmanoeuvred sick kiddy pity giving only to be accosted by Rob the helpful cripple. SickBitchCrips listen with elation as Rob regurgitates a long drawn out story about how his toes were blown off in a mishap during target practice in The Royal Signals. Rob refuses government hand-outs and accommodation and opts to kip in the gutter rather than skip on a plane to Dignitas to guzzle down a massive dose of healthy barbiturates. He bravely decided to become independent and took up flogging The Big Issue outside the Duke of York’s day in day out. SickBitchCrips aspire to disabled Rob’s life style choices and are stoically proud of themselves for refusing to purchase The Big Issue and indulging his war victim hero’s, lavish lifestyle.
SickBitchCrips exhaustedly promote engendered self-pity with their latest two or three million pound multiple grants funded project. They are grateful to their funders who include ACE, BNP, BP, GREAESE, and SHIPSHAPE. Pity Party exposes the necessity to Pity Party until the bitter end. The luxury venue is the fabulously appointed Wes-Sex through floor lift and although somewhat confined the space is an acoustically inferior location especially if one's friends are limited. The elevator experience brings new heights to the afflicted and serves as an intimate space accommodating an eclectic breed of hybrid sick bitches. The Pity Party depraves have spent months developing new, more individualized approaches to the moving body and choreographic possibilities. Pity Party is realised, danced and choreographed by SickBitchCrips, integrating special movement in and around the disabled lift. The song is composed and arranged by SickBitchCrips and the backing singers are a revised group of late sixties dyslexic duets who have spent a long time in rehearsal.
Click on the link to see 'Pity Party' before it is premiered in Leicester Square sometime soon.
SickBitchCrips are ecstatic at the launch of their long awaited Facebook page
SickBitchCrips Facebook page archives all their digital images and videos, so now there is no excuse not to have seen their erudite work.
For the ultimate Christmas gift, treat yourself to a viewing of the SickBitchCrip Facebook page, full of fantastic videos and digital images.
Strongly recommended for those who are sick of the cliched world of disability and want to elevate to a new and refreshing level.
SickBitchCrips have had an uneventful self-indulgent Christmas during which they have gorged non-stop for 48 hours. They are confident that they have gobbled enough to prepare themselves for severe funding cuts which will impinge on their appetites in 2013 and will have an impact on what champagne they greedily guzzle.
They received hundreds of presents which included a bird perched on a twig and a wicker work stool, all of these gifts have been carefully redirected to a charity to help the diseased and afflicted.
SickBitchCrips new years message is 'Express Yourselves'
The cute bitches in the Christmas image represent a time of austerity and are a constant reminder that however pitiful your circumstances may be – in 2013 you will be even worse off. They strongly advise you to be prepared for the onslaught of hideous assessments and make sure that you downsize your fridge, television, cochlear implant, bed, wheelchair, bath, sink, art works, colostomy bag and other non-essentials to Cripple up to a level that you didn't believe possible.
Remain static and be vigilant, invest in tracheotomies, peg feeding, life-support machines and surgical blunders. Daily invasive procedures may sound a little daunting at first but for hard times ahead SickBitchCrips insist on these measures that will set you in good stead and precipitate the decrease in your funding.