I've got a kind of smart arse tourettes. If a remotely funny, smug remark drops into my head, it's very rarely I can stop myself blurting it out, even at the most inappropriate times.
We're taking a tour of Churchill College Cambridge. In the library I spot a hideous sculpture. A kind of griffiny, deamony sort of thing with a stupid face. I try desparately not to say something derogatory. Think of something nice about it, I will myself.
No sooner had the answer popped into my head than it popped out of my mouth.
In the hushed corridore of this learned place I chirp,