h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Monday morning. The start of the week and Day 1 in the life of Researcher 54410. I like that. I bet most people change the nickname to something personal or witty but Researcher 54410 it is for me. Maybe I am, feel like or just want to be a mindless automaton in a world run by unfeeling machines. Maybe it reminds me what the guide is all about: individual contribution like WikiWikiWeb and not just another public forum for spouting off, spamming and asking the same boring questions over and over again. Maybe the it's the comfort of anonymity behind a number. Maybe it's my hangover.

Fair enough, but it will be easier for us to recognise you if you lose the "Researcher" bit. It takes to long to look past it to the number.
If you read this in time, make sure you get to see Mitch Benn and Tripod before they all bugger off. Let me also warn you in advance that there'll be a gig at the new King's Buildings House on October the 7th that you might find entertaining.
Does your software engineering company require recent graduates from CS/AI courses? I'd like as many of them as possible to stay up here, partly to keep the band together and partly to prevent them from being sucked down to London.
Don't start running. You are wise to resist. Go scampering instead, between the bits of rock that you climb. We only developed the ability to scamper to run from tree to tree anyway, so you're being true to your ancestry.
I don't know about the blisters. Maybe they're coded messages from another galaxy.
Stop mowing the grass. First the grass, then the cats frolicking on the lawn. Then the flock wallpaper. Then the hedgetrimming. Then the barbeque. Then, god forbid, the sun-lounger. Things that are meant to stop at a certain length do so by their own methods, such as pubes and eyebrows. Grass should be free.