Never Even Told Me Her Name
Choosing to listen to Air Traffic is like turning on the engine, locking the garage door and waiting for the insidious poison to guide you towards death. As the world speeds towards an inglorious finale, this dross is the kind of gloop which distracts Heat readers from the bird flu-carrying nuclear missiles aimed at the ozone layer. It’s what Dr Strangelove listens to as he watches the apocalypse unfold. Evil.