As a little girl in Navan watching Zig and Zag I dreamed like most children born in the 1980s of one day maybe meeting the gang myself. I think I even wanted to marry Ray D’arcy for a bit. My little sister wanted to marry Zag. It was all going to work out. I never imagined that when I did eventually chat on the phone to the man himself (Ray not Zag), it wouldn’t be a marriage proposal he’d be reading out, but tweets about my periods I’d been sending the Taoiseach. And far from being impressed, he’d be delivering them in the style of a disapproving teacher reading out notes I’d been sending in class and wanting to know why I thought they were funny. The wedding was definitely off. I never...
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