One of the nice things about writing for Cracked is the occasional contact with celebrities. The cease and desist letter from David Bowie's lawyers calling my constant references to him "borderline creepy" was certainly a thrill, but last week, something even better happened. I got a call from Blindboyboatclub of the Irish band Rubberbandits informing me that they were coming to New York for a gig. Loyal Cracked readers will remember that the Bandits secured the top spot in one of my previous columns about misunderstood satirists for their "Horse Outside" video. Subsequently, Blindboy and I struck up a friendship even though, unlike the Bandits, I don't ride horses, appear on television or huff bags of glue.

"We're playing New York," he said. Or at least I assumed that's what he said. The Limerick accent was still difficult for me to comprehend, as my familiarity with Irish dialects was based mostly on leprechauns of the Warwick Davis and Lucky Charms variety.

www.warwickdavis.co.uk



Mr. Davis spent over 300 hours with a dialect coach in order to perfect what is known in the business as "The McNoOneTalksLikeThis Brogue."

"You're gonna show us 'round," he continued. "I wanna see if a sidewalk and a footpath are different things. I want to drink a 40, I want to get into a fight with my Puerto Rican girlfriend while she throws my clothes out the window onto the street below."

"You have a Puerto Rican girlfriend?" I asked.

"No, not yet, but I won't be there for another few hours so see if you can hook that up. Least you can do considering the mad groupie gash I'm gonna be throwing at you."