Humphrey Lyttleton, jazz musician, raconteur, wit and chairman of the irreplaceable BBC show I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue has died, aged 86. Life will never be the same again. 
http://news.bbc.co.uk/
http://news.bbc.co.uk/
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Humphrey Lyttleton has died
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I'm sitting here listening to ISIHAC in tribute. It is indeed a sad loss to broadcasting and jazz music. His dead pan delivery of double entendres will be sorely missed.
R.I.P. Humph and may the angels be playing Bad Penny Blues as you ascend to heaven and challenge you to a game of Mornington Crescent.
R.I.P. Humph and may the angels be playing Bad Penny Blues as you ascend to heaven and challenge you to a game of Mornington Crescent.
Some Humphrey Lyttleton gems...
Opening the show
"Hello and welcome to I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. Tonight, we promise you a nail-biting contest. Which will be followed by a nose-picking contest."
"Nottingham is a fine city with a fascinating history. It's well documented in official records that the city's original name was 'Snottingham', or 'Home of Snots', but when the Normans came, they couldn't pronounce the letter 'S', so decreed the town be called 'Nottingham' or the 'Home of Notts'. It's easy to understand why this change was resisted so fiercely by the people of S****horpe."
"The story of Hastings only really begins with the historic battle, which was fought at a nearby town called Battle. Now, what are the chances of that happening...?"
On Colin Sell
"When music experts hear Colin's compositions, they say he could have been another Berlin, Porter, or anybody else employed by the German State Railway."
"We've just heard some great news — I'm very pleased to announce that the BBC have arranged a special collection of Colin's entire work... they've bagged it up and the council are sending some men round for it on Tuesday."
"When I tell people I work with Colin Sell, they often ask me "how is the maestro?". Well, Colin tells me that it's failed its MOT again, but should be back on the road by next Tuesday"
On Samantha
"Samantha's going out now for an ice cream with her new Italian gentleman friend. She says she's looking forward to licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan."
"She's popped out to visit an old gentleman friend of hers who's a notorious curmudgeon. However, she finds that if she butters him up properly she can sometimes get him to splash out."
"In her spare time, Samantha likes nothing more than to peruse old record shops. She particularly enjoys a rewarding poke in the country section."
In a programme from 1997, Humph says the following: "It's just occurred to me that Samantha hasn't given us the score...since 1981."
Correspondence
"A Mrs Trellis of North Wales has written in to complain that the show has 'an enormous fistful of rampant innuendo rammed into every crack', but only a truly filthy-minded person would think such a thing."
"Dear Mr Titchmarsh: This morning I went out to dig up some dandelions and a giant hogweed on my lawn. The filthy beast! Yours faithfully, Mrs Trellis."
"Dear Mrs McCartney: My, what a terrible mess. You must be kicking yourself."
"Dear Mr Melly: Here's a great tip for removing any annoying little hairs that collect in the bath plughole: tempt them up with a carrot and pull them out by their long floppy ears."
"Dear Rolf: They say a dog isn't just for Christmas. How true. You can use it for sandwiches all through January."
Closing the show
"...And so, as the guardsman of time strokes the bearskin of eternity, and the sergeant major of fate orders him back to the barracks to put some clothes on..."
"...And so, as the hunter of time blasts the moose of eternity, and the dairy counter worker of fate sighs and grabs her mop..."
"...And so, ladies and gentlemen, as the 4x4 of destiny on the level crossing of fate stalls in the path of the speeding freight train of doom, and the signalman of time rushes to fetch his camera..."
Opening the show
"Hello and welcome to I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. Tonight, we promise you a nail-biting contest. Which will be followed by a nose-picking contest."
"Nottingham is a fine city with a fascinating history. It's well documented in official records that the city's original name was 'Snottingham', or 'Home of Snots', but when the Normans came, they couldn't pronounce the letter 'S', so decreed the town be called 'Nottingham' or the 'Home of Notts'. It's easy to understand why this change was resisted so fiercely by the people of S****horpe."
"The story of Hastings only really begins with the historic battle, which was fought at a nearby town called Battle. Now, what are the chances of that happening...?"
On Colin Sell
"When music experts hear Colin's compositions, they say he could have been another Berlin, Porter, or anybody else employed by the German State Railway."
"We've just heard some great news — I'm very pleased to announce that the BBC have arranged a special collection of Colin's entire work... they've bagged it up and the council are sending some men round for it on Tuesday."
"When I tell people I work with Colin Sell, they often ask me "how is the maestro?". Well, Colin tells me that it's failed its MOT again, but should be back on the road by next Tuesday"
On Samantha
"Samantha's going out now for an ice cream with her new Italian gentleman friend. She says she's looking forward to licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan."
"She's popped out to visit an old gentleman friend of hers who's a notorious curmudgeon. However, she finds that if she butters him up properly she can sometimes get him to splash out."
"In her spare time, Samantha likes nothing more than to peruse old record shops. She particularly enjoys a rewarding poke in the country section."
In a programme from 1997, Humph says the following: "It's just occurred to me that Samantha hasn't given us the score...since 1981."
Correspondence
"A Mrs Trellis of North Wales has written in to complain that the show has 'an enormous fistful of rampant innuendo rammed into every crack', but only a truly filthy-minded person would think such a thing."
"Dear Mr Titchmarsh: This morning I went out to dig up some dandelions and a giant hogweed on my lawn. The filthy beast! Yours faithfully, Mrs Trellis."
"Dear Mrs McCartney: My, what a terrible mess. You must be kicking yourself."
"Dear Mr Melly: Here's a great tip for removing any annoying little hairs that collect in the bath plughole: tempt them up with a carrot and pull them out by their long floppy ears."
"Dear Rolf: They say a dog isn't just for Christmas. How true. You can use it for sandwiches all through January."
Closing the show
"...And so, as the guardsman of time strokes the bearskin of eternity, and the sergeant major of fate orders him back to the barracks to put some clothes on..."
"...And so, as the hunter of time blasts the moose of eternity, and the dairy counter worker of fate sighs and grabs her mop..."
"...And so, ladies and gentlemen, as the 4x4 of destiny on the level crossing of fate stalls in the path of the speeding freight train of doom, and the signalman of time rushes to fetch his camera..."
