I had an animated Gif in one of my classes once. I had just arrived in the UK and was a Supply Teacher, in a school in Kennington. For some reason, none of the more permanent members of staff had bothered to tell me about the little chap.
He usually got animated at about half past eleven in the morning, and it didn't seem to matter what lesson we were involved in, whether Mathematics, Language or even P.E., he would get more and more animated so that by lunchtime, which stared at 12:15, he would be almost beside himself with animation. That was bad enough for him, but not only would he be beside himself, he would be beside the child in the seat next to him, and she, a child I remember quite distinctly as being a fairly placid Groodle, suffered quite badly from his animated proximity.
Groodle, I seem to remember, experienced a sort of nervous collapse as a result, and as a result of the collapse, spent some time recuperating in that well known NHS Hospital for the Terminally Confused, Saint Beatrice-by the-Tower.
It did dear little Groodle a great favour however, because on her release some years later, realising her potential when in Saint Beatrice’s she put herself forward and was immediately accepted as the Tory candidate for Kennington in a forthcoming election, and was promptly sent to the Palace of Westminster. She is now Minister for Education and Mental Health.
Returning to the Gif in my class, however, I didn’t realise the reasons for his animation until the last day as Supply Teacher I spent at that school.
He also, may I state, became animated at the end of the school day. Something which also perplexed me.
It was on the final Friday afternoon when the children had all departed, waving their middle fingers at me in what I assumed was an Olde Englishe salute of affection, when through the door burst, what I thought was, the largest overweight canary I had ever seen. It turned out to be Mummy Gif in a bright yellow tracksuit.
La Gif had the most enormous knockers to which were attached several other Mini Gifs. “My” Gif promptly sought a place betwixt and between his siblings, and clamped himself on, orally and securely.
It seems his animation stemmed from a need of sustenance; something she was well equipped to provide.
So Mr Ewbie, if you have any Gifs which refuse to be animated (or fail to be), find the nearest, how shall we say, BOOB, and whack it on. Instant animation.
Job done.
