TOURETTES

I remember joking with an old friend of mine about Tourettes. The joke went, every man has Tourettes going on in his head. This was when we both disclosed the same mildly obscene workings of our two minds which would normally, of course, be unspoken.
Having real Tourettes must be no joke. But why are the tourettes invariably so terribly insulting / obscene / rude? Why couldn't they be nice things? Is it that we are censored only in the terrible things? That seems to tie in so poorly with what one experiences in organizations - a paucity of real and heartfelt praise.
Anyway, back to the Tourettes. I am not a magnet for loonies. I fix them with such an intimidating glare that, combined with a haircut suited to a Chief Inspector, they are often daunted and skulk away, thank God. Waiting on the station platform yesterday, though, the loony chose the next bench, from which he ruminated aloud.
His first utterance was incoherent - a deep guttural grunt.
Next, "nah, fuckit."
A pause .
"Cunt."
A pause.
Another grunt / wail.
Another pause.
Repeat in not necessarily the same order.
This happens four or five times, each punctuated by a pause of a few moments.
Then, unexpectedly, he burped.
"Oo. Pardon me," he said.
Manners maketh man.