What's your method for calculating a tip?

I use a complex equation as follows...

           B
T =     ----      x 0.10
        (S+G)

where...

• T is the tip
• B is the amount on the bill
• S is the probability that they spat in your food, 0 is not at all, 10 is phlegm fest
• G is the grumpiness factor, 0 being happy and smiley, 10 being Jack Dee.

Of course, in the case of waitresses, the side of me that I really should not cave into adds in an extra factor.  F. 

• F is the flirtation scale, 0 for charmless Witch of Endor, 10 for leaving her number on a napkin.

In this case the equation becomes as follows.

T = B x (2F + 0.10)

Needless to say it is a perfect system, except for the fact that it is as yet untested and I have tipped anything from nothing (they were miserable and over charged) to 400% (it was The Dorchester and I was young and confused)

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What song best describes your current mood?
Submitted by Section31.

Passion: Everything Glorious

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How long I spent sat there is lost to me, time seemed to have been momentarily suspended, it seemed that I had been there days, and yet not more than a moment. After all, what is time when you're relaxed and happy? What is time when you have nowhere to be? I would be there every night, often at length, gazing out at the world.

The motorway lay before me creeping right through the city centre, like an artery constantly a buzz with the flow traffic, even in the wee hours of the morning it was always alive with the glowing lights of passing cars, like constellations in an infinite variety of shapes.  Beyond that, towards the horizon was the gloomy and brooding shadow of a new Foster designed building, like an Armadillo curled into its shell for protection from the imposing darkness around, by day it gleamed silver, yet by night was enveloped into the surrounding darkness.  Beneath me, looking like a scale model that you could pluck out of the landscape and play with was the old church, looking forlorn yet not entirely surrendered, like a battle hardened soldier who has seen many wide eyed young things come and go, yet still holds his place and in a strange way despite lacking the polish or the transient beauty of youth retains a sense of gravitas in its position.  To the left and right were other hotels, Anastasia and Drizella looking with curious eyes at the Cinderella that had risen betwixt them and stole their shine.  Further away to the left the river ran, a dark ribbon through the lights of the night, dissected only by the motorway flyover.  

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps, but this place taught me that it's not alone, none of the worlds great cities ever sleep, they live instead in a state of flux, a constant transposition between the daily life of shops and coffee houses, offices and schools and the city lights at night, the evening traffic, the bars and the restaurants.  

The place never slept and never looked the same for two instances of time, it stretched out before me from my perch on the tenth floor an ever changing metropolis, it's urbanity a strange cocktail, simultaneously vulgar and yet beautiful and magical, a juxtaposition of the bad and good in humanity, human achievement and nature all bound up into a heaving mass of luxurious depth that seemed to be able to hold my attention endlessly.  I had lots of good times in that city on varying trips for business and pleasure, but one of the most vivid memories is of the time idled away on a deep set windowsill on the tenth floor.  

I miss you, city, but I'll be back.

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Captain Haddock

Alas, another day, another blog, and time to make the all important first post, which, following on from the rather bizzare title, should probably explain the significance of Macrocephalic Baboons, and indeed, why they are significant to this post.  You see, having recieved my VOX invite I was sat momentarily pondering what screen name I should use, I pondered using my real name, but remembered that not everyone on the internet is mild mannered and trustworthy, and I don't much fancy being murdered because I misspelled a word and angered a pedantic spelling and grammar obssesive, but still, chances are Lynne Truss doesn't blog here so I may have been safe.  This left me with a selection of other usernames that I could have used, the usual collection of past names that flourish to mind, attached to a string of ASCII characters, calling to mind the random places they've been used before, and I soon decided against them all too, and thus started to clutch at straws, and as misfortune would have it, I looked at a small picture of Captain Haddock, and the rest, as they say is history.  I did change my mind almost immeadiatley, however, I didn't know how to change the URL so instead will now have to adapt my personality to that of a crazed Scots sea captain with a penchant for extraordainary exclamations.  One of which was to refer to some people who had angered him as Macrocephalic Baboons....

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