by 
The search for late 90s comedian Mark Lamarr has proved fruitless.
An expedition had been undertaken to determine exactly where the once prominent host of Never Mind the Buzzcocks had gone, with not so much as a hint of hair gel or biting sarcasm to be found.
“Must be dead,” shrugged expedition leader, Simon Williams.
“The last anyone saw of him was the last Buzzcocks episode he did, and our sniffer dogs picked up precisely dick from the tape of said show. The fact it was a TAPE speaks volumes.
“We believe he may be hiding in a forgotten radio station; perhaps Radio 2. But quite frankly we are not prepared to traverse such hostile terrain.
“Best to file this one under whereabouts unknown; alongside Lord Lucan, Amelia Earhart and the British public’s sense of sympathy for foreign refugees.”
Telly enthusiast, Elizabeth King, said, “I have a faint memory of him; hair like a shimmering clifftop and the face of a grown ventriloquist’s dummy, as I recall.
“Buggered if I’ve seen him in the last fifteen years though.”
Mark Lamarr’s agent declined to comment, mainly due to having completely forgotten what that name means.
