I can’t believe it’s not butter. More specifically, I can’t believe that the Nualas’ newest recruit, Josie O’Reilly, is actually an Australian. In fact, though her surname indicates her Irish roots, Josie has made something of a career out of pretending to come from another country. A trained musician and performer, she initially started her comedy career in the ‘90s at Boom Chicago, the American comedy venue in Amsterdam, where she adopted a flawless American accent. But how did she hook up with the daughters of DeValera that are The Nualas?

“I’d been doing comedy for some time,” she explains, “and I met Susan and Anne in 1996 when I was working on an RTE radio show called You Can’t Be Serious. As it happened it was a pretty terrible show but I was invited to join the team which was a real thrill as I was already a fan. It’s very much my kind of humour.”

Josie’s not alone. Since their formation in 1995 (they met in a kitchen at a Dublin party – how Nuala!) the trio have survived line-up changes and the assorted set-backs that are part and parcel of a comedy career to become one of Ireland’s most popular acts. As well as their success at home, they have performed sell-out shows as far afield as Edinburgh, Singapore and Australia and have written and performed a series of sketch shows for BBC Radio 4. It’s quite heady stuff for a trio who base their routine on an innately Irish theme. Why do they think that the act has enjoyed such crossover appeal?

“I think that everybody has a bit of Nuala in them,” observes Susan Collins, “though that actually sounds a bit rude. What I mean is that every country has a ‘Nuala’ type of girl; in Canada they’re invariably called Edith, in Australia they’re Sheilas, in England, I dunno, maybe Winnifreds.” “Or Fionas,” interrupts Josie. Anne Gildea blanches. “How dare you,” she counters, “That’s my mother’s name!” Wary that if this discussion is allowed to continue we might be in for yet another change in line-up I change tack. How would the ladies describe the Nualas’ unique brand of humour?

“Well, really that’s your job since you’re the comedy writer,” says a dead-pan Susan with cold logic. I’m starting to perspire. Would they describe it as ‘girlie’ humour? Aware that I’m about to burst into tears’ Anne relents. “I’d describe it as women’s humour in that it’s written by women but it’s really it’s quite universal stuff. Our audiences are made up of equal numbers of men and women so obviously guys find it funny as well. We’ve been doing it for so long now we’ve acquired a kind of Nuala-sense; if it makes us laugh it’s in.”

Susan adds: “We also get a lot of gay men coming along because there is an enormously camp element to the show. Because it’s a character based over-the-top act it has similarities to drag in some ways and I think that appeals to gay guys. Plus, in my experience gay men usually have an excellent sense of humour so we’re glad to have ‘em!”

It’s common knowledge that women admit to valuing a sense of humour as one of a man’s sexiest attributes but is the same true for funny women? Specifically, I’m asking if they get groupies?

“I think women do like a sense of humour in a man” says Josie. “That and a nice bum and a couple of acres of arable,” suggests Susan. Josie: “But I think that men find funny women slightly intimidating, I don’t think men find funny women sexy.” “My husband does,” protests Susan. “Your husband is a freak,” counters Josie.

I prepare myself for the ensuing cat-fight until I realise that both women are in hysterics. “Actually I’m only joking, I love her husband,” explains Josie, “in a totally platonic way. We are not having an affair. He really does have to work late every Wednesday and I have never seen the ceiling of room 217 in the Davenport Hotel in my life.”

That’s cleared that up then.

“Basically to answer your question we don’t get groupies,” says Anne, who continues: “We want them, we’re appealing to your readers ‘Please can we have legions of stage door Johnnys at our HQ gig.” “They don’t necessarily have to be called Johnny, we should make that clear,” suggests Susan. “We will accept stage door Brendans and Kevins and Fachtnas.” “Or Phelims,” adds Josie to nonplussed looks from her fellow Nualas. “I just like that name,” she shrugs. Fair enough.

So ladies, in the name of the suffering lamb of Jayzus, what can we expect to see on the 30th?

“Us!” they chorus, helpfully. Susan bales me out. “We’ll be doing some old favourites and a lot of newer stuff. We’re doing a Destiny’s Child bit for the boys in the front row and we’ve got a song about a woman who donates her liver to her alcoholic lover but it’s not as Mills and Boon as it sounds.

“We’ll also be doing a flying trapese act if we can get permission. It’s actually an animal trapese act so we’re running into a little trouble from the ISPCA. Which is ridiculous because if you saw the act you’d realise that the Harbour seals that we’re using really enjoy it. We’ll see. And we’ve borrowed an element from JJ72’s stage-show where we trash the stage afterwards. Except we use vacuum cleaners instead of guitars so we can clean up as we go.”

The Nualas play HQ at the Irish Music Hall of Fame on Sunday, September 30th