Editor’s letter
Holy smoke. At the time of writing, the UK is being slowly air fried by high temperatures of 37°C. I hate to conform to everybody’s worst stereotypes about millennials, journalists and gadget nerds, but this snowflake can’t hack the heat. I have the metabolism of a hungover sloth, which means I’ve been forced to defend myself from the sweltering weather by hiding in basements and growing a protective layer of algae.