#the snorf is perfect

[bearotonin-international]

It’s true. The team is so so so delighted and full of joy by this beautiful snorf respect art and grateful to @astrophysical-bean for making this happen. We had to share our joy with our good friend @grizzly-bear-official

Apologies for it taking a bit longer than intended! It turned out we only had 18 count Aida so I had to change the design. Feel free to DM me where you want it mailed to!

Oh. Oh. Oh. MY. GOD

This. This is

The most

Amazing

Fabulous

Wonderful

Splendid

Beautiful

Fantastic

PERFECT!!!!!!

thing we have ever seen.

We hope you know how much sheer and utter unadulterated JOY you have brought the team. The team is about to cry. The happiest of happy tears. So much bearotonin from this beautiful magnificent astounding respect of snorf

The team loves you so so much. The team loves you endlessly. The team is losing our collective shit

[echolaliaplayer]

Car that can smell girls

[mynameisjag]

Sniff, sniiif, snorf.

Huff.

Sniff, huuufff…snuffle…

Logan gave one last snort at the thing in his hammock, he didn’t put it there, why was it there? It kinda smelled like Wade but mostly like a store, which meant the other man probably just bought it home and tossed it in, but why?

Speaking of the merc, he had just burst into their shared bedroom, spinning dramatically before plopping down on the bed, face grinning up at him, “Do you like my surprise! It made me think of you and I had to get it!”

Good, immediate answers.

He gave the…thing…another glance over, slowly picking it up and slowly turning it around in his hands. It was a toy, it’s fur was soft and a pastel yellow, the stuffing wasn’t too firm, the eyes and nose were stitches instead of the usual plastic…it was a ferret…

“It’s still in the weasel family, so it counts!”, Wade was now stretching around in his bed, trying to find the perfect spot even as his clothes twisted around him, “ugh! Boo, come cuddle with me! It can be a thank you!”

“Hmm,” it was a…thoughtful…gift…fine…he’ll give his partner his thank you cuddles, so turning and seeing grabby hands being made at him made him give a small low chuckle, “fine.”

“Yes! Come to Papi, I need my Wolvie fix for the day!”, more grabby hands followed by a shriek as Logan used his full body weight to flop on top of the man.

-

I like to think Wade got an one bedroom apartment, not because of rent but because he was trying to do the, “there’s only one bed” trope.

Jokes on him, Logan made himself a hammock and curls up in it, it’s his spot in the bedroom.

He still will sleep in Wade’s bed occasionally but the hammocks is his area, he usually sleeps in it when he feels like he is going to have a rough night sleeping or when he just wants to relax.

[seriously-mike]

Extremely Stupid AI-Generated Shit

(that is still kinda funny, anyway)

Those little freaks are the result of the following prompt:

Glurb snorf thwip krazl vomp yurgle zibble frunx quorl plimf drax gnurk jibbit flox zark welp thrum skork plund frazzle mreep

Top image comes from Midjourney, the bottom two are probably DALL-E 3 (the last is certainly DALL-E 3, the middle I'm not sure but it does look like it). To make this even weirder (and funnier), Bing Image Creator considers "Glurb" an unacceptable word.

Okay. I did refer to oblong, roundish, organic shapes as "blorps" a couple of times, but this looks like someone posted his kid's drawings of weird critters on the internet a long time ago, the algorithms yoinked them unceremoniously along with the descriptions, and just like that red t-shirt that turned the entire load of your laundry pink that one time, weird kid drawings pounded into mathemagical fairy dust along with more typical fairy tale and fantasy illustrations resulted in the weird names assigned to... this.

This is merely a selection of pics generated from this prompt, but the overall concept tied to it are creepy round-bodied creatures for Midjourney, goofy cartoonish Monsters Inc. for DALL-E 3, and...

I just scrolled through the post and found results for various Stable Diffusion data models. And Stable Diffusion, ladies and gentlemen, consistently responds with goblins.

This Warhammer miniature-styled thug fell out of Stable Cascade, the weird semi-forgotten uncooperative child. For the result of a string of completely nonsensical words, he's surprisingly coherent, with a fairly regular number of fingers AND toes. Of course the details like his kneepads are still blorpy, but that's how Stable Diffusion rolls, even three years, four major versions and a shitton of fine-tuned custom models in.

And SDXL custom model called FenrisXL provides an entire fucking family of goblins. What is going on here, because my assumptions regarding Stable Diffusion and SDXL in particular just have been challenged.

First, the Kitten Effect is less pronounced than it was in the early versions of the algorithm, if it happens at all. I'll chalk it up to improvements in the XL algorithm. Second, they're cartoonish goblins, but the Same Face Syndrome usual for the XL algorithm (every fucking custom model I tried suffers from it, no ifs, no buts) is less pronounced here than it is in case of human characters. Third, how in the FUCK an entire family of goblins spewed forth from a prompt consisting of gibberish has almost perfect and repeated anatomy, not counting the orphaned hand on the goblin girl's shoulder and an extra toe on the guy second from left in the front row? And varied skin and hair colors?

I can only explain it with someone lucking out on the seed number, much like I lucked out on the entire Chinese Garden test last year.

Still, though. Goblins. Fairly solid in custom models, messier in the core SDXL 1.0 (below), without any meaningful words in the prompt.

Where the fuck are they coming from? This is some serious Horse K shit and I refuse to investigate it any further. Much less add other weird phrases like "Yakka foob mog!" or "Kov schmoz, ka-pop?" to it and test it on my build (or even Photobooth from Hell in particular). It's late and my brain is giving up.

[thebluestbluewords]

Polyshipweek day 3: Bed Sharing

set in the same very silly road trip AU as my last attempt. Rotten ot4. +

The camper has one big, comfortable bed that feels good to fall into after a long day, and two shitty, terrible bunk beds that also feel good to fall into after a long day, and then feel significantly less good to peel yourself out of in the morning. 

Or maybe that’s just Mal. Transformation magic will wreck havoc on your joints if you do it wrong, and Mal has maybe, possibly been practicing some illegal transformation magic as of late. 

If her mother comes back, she’s not going to be caught unawares again. Her mother can transform effortlessly into a fuck-off huge dragon, so Mal’s going to have to manage at least a decent-sized dragon in return if she’s going to protect her crew from Maleficent, and she can’t afford to not practice just because of some little things the ‘the law’ and ‘common sense’. 

The point is, sleeping in the bunk beds is awful and it hurts. Therefore, Mal should be the rightful owner of the big bed. 

Shockingly, the others don’t seem to agree with her on this. 

“Get off—“ Mal groans, pushing ineffectively at the weight that’s currently pinning her to the bed. “Can’t—breathe—“ 

“Snorf—“ goes the lump on top of her, and then, “Ow, fuck, why are your elbows sharp?” 

“Because you’re crushing my lungs,” Mal groans, elbowing harder. “Get off so I can breathe or I’ll put them somewhere worse.” 

Jay rolls off the bed with a thump. 

The weight gone, Mal takes a moment to enjoy the sensation of breathing freely before the guilt at kicking her platonic and sometimes-sexual, rarely romantic probably-soulmate out of the singular shared bed kicks in. 

“Y’know,” Jay starts, sounding completely cheerful about being awake, and that’s it, any sympathy Mal had for him is immediately gone, “If you’re awake and all, we could go on a breakfast run before the others wake up?” 

…..maybe she spoke too soon. 

“Grocery store or cafe?” Mal asks quietly. It would be rude to wake up the other two, who are very peacefully sprawled in the bed beside them, dead to the world and unknowing in the ways of early morning baked goods. 

Jay shrugs. The shades on their camper window are pulled shut to try and block out the worst of the morning sun, but the light comes creeping in anyway, and there’s one ray that’s hitting him right in the face. 

Mal refuses to think about the imagery of it all. She can’t deal with the perfection of this gorgeous boy, not without a sketchbook in her hand. 

“Was thinking cafe, if you’re up for it,” he says softly. He’s not wearing a shirt, and there’s a bruise on his neck from someone who isn’t Mal. Unless she’s been blacking out and going around giving indiscriminate hickies to her gang again, which is plausible, but seems unlikely given the current state of their food stores and the lack of alcohol thereof. “But I’m down for whatever you’re feeling.” 

Mal is feeling a burning need to put her own marks on him, but she could also go for a croissant. 

“Cafe, totally,” she agrees, stretching her arms up, up until her spine cracks with a satisfying jolt. “Gimme two seconds to find where Evie hid my shoes and I’ll be right there?” 

Jay laughs, soft and gorgeous and unbearable. “Give me five times find a shirt and I’ll let you drive the bike.” 

[burningfeathersx]

Well, I'd like to take you out for some fun, maybe at the local park? There are some spots you have to wiggle through bushes to get through, but it takes you to pond areas where no one goes. Perfect for some drinks and laughs.

"That's, actually--" He snorfed in his usual amused way. "Sounds nice."

It's a well tailored date, he would admit. Away from prying eyes, intimate, and though he'd always been ready to throw down with humans...he quite liked nature at large on the planet Earth.

[timpaxew]

The perfect number of times to reblog a post you want to spam is three. You get the sneef without the snorf of it all

[fairsweetlonging]

jokes on you im moving happily into your attic!! makes it all the easier to have tea parties<3

panyuan squeaking back to wei wingwei like

wei qingwei: and then we draw and fold the billet back on itself so we can create layers of strong steel for our folded blades

panyuan: squeak squeak? sneef snorf

wei qingwei: good question! you see, folded steel is harder and more flexible, because the impurities are removed. it also makes for a very fine looking sword!

panyuan: squeaaak? snorf snorf!!

wei qingwei: exactly!!!

random disciple from another peak: i think he's been in the forge too long...

panyuan loves getting carried around (short little paws dont get you very far...), especially by peak lords because they have those long silk sleeves that are perfect to be wrapped up in while held! yue qingyuan is the "i don't want a pet" dad type in this, who doesn't really want to hold panyuan but he ends up doing it anyway and his arms are just perfect snuggle places.

unfortunately (or not?) this means that shen qingqiu also wants to hold him, because yue qingyuan holds him so now shen qingqiu must hold him too. it's scary at first, but surprisingly comfy. plus shen qingqiu has long sharp nails that scratch perfectly around his little nose so that's a win!

and wei qingwei would be sooo gentle with a wounded panyuan... carefully bandaging his little paw and giving him medicine and treats, deceptively calm as he cleans the torn off scales. panyuan is really shaken by the incident and doesn't want anyone to touch him except wei qingwei, curling up in a little ball in his burrow for most of the day, only coming out to eat or for treatment.

wei qingwei goes on a warpath.

even more so if it's baby panyuan, just a little kid that got kicked around by a bunch of cruel teens who thought they could do whatever to an animal and get away with it. his big round eyes have bruises around them and it's enough to send any sensible man into a rage.

sorry i send you so many asks i might as well go live in your inbox BUT pangolin!shen yuan is SO CUTE (panyuan? shen yuangolin?), i know he LOVES climbing on wei qingwei's broad shoulders and traveling to the peaks, listening to wei qingwei talk endlessly about all the peak lords and cultivators and their swords.

as a pangolin he has no job or anything so he'd wander off to watch liu qingge train, standing there with his little paws held together in that adorable pangolin way. maybe some bai zhan kids try to kick him and liu qingge immediately punts them to the other side of the field bc everyone knows that if you mess with the pangolins, you mess with wan jian peak, and you really don't want that. or shen yuan goes to qian cao peak to watch mu qingfang work his medicine magics. an ding peak is definitely the best place for treats, esp shang qinghua who just plops a whole bag of nuts and seeds in front of him when he visits.

also he'd hide behind wei qingwei's legs, little claws clinging to his robes like a tiny scaly child whenever shen qingqiu comes by for disciple swords, because that man is intimidating and everyone is so freaking tall when you're only 80 cm long.

shen yuan has also 100% bitten people.

You've actually fallen for my trap that I set out purely to lure you into my inbox and now you're trapped here forever and ever and we WILL be having tea parties every week. Sorry. You're my friend now, that's basically what I'm like with my friends. I've just realised that I'm basically atticwifing you....but platonically. ANYWAY. Shen Yuan absorbs so much information from Wei Qingwei's rambles, even squeaking and offering little sounds to ensure that the peak lord knows that he is listening! While the rest of the sect have gotten used to this little limpet hanging onto WQW, visitors are like "is one of your peak lords actually insane" and the peak lords are like "nah just watch this" and they listen as SY seemingly RESPONDS to something WQW has said with a questioning sort of hum. Shocked Pikachu faces all around. Also, I love to think about a couple of the more spiteful, spoiled disciples of one of the peaks ganging up on poor pangolin SY because they think they're above the consequences of their actions. SY stumbles his way back to Wan Jian Peak, where he is met by WQW. The man is. Very gentle. as he treats the pangolin's wounds. Then he turns his attention to finding who has done this to his precious little pet, and all of the peak lords are reminded of just how scary WQW can be when he has a valid reason to be. The man is horrifying, normally warm and friendly smile wiped completely off his face - instead, there's a scowl. A petrifying scowl that looks out of place on his face. Let's just say that the disciples are very quickly found and...dealt with. Also!! I read the last little paragraph and just...immediately thought of a different kind of panyuan - a little demon type creature that WQW likely took in as a baby because...listen, so what if it's a demon, the shimei on the beast peak said that it's okay because "pangolin-type demons are harmless, trust me bro". This little pangolin baby has a human form, meaning WQW basically has a little baby that is sometimes a pangolin. In human form, he has his little tail and spatterings of scales over his body, and he is just a little GUY. He's just as charming as a little child, peeking out from behind WQW's robes and clinging to him, often just resorting to communicating through his little chirps and squeaks when he gets scared or far too shy for words. He is still taken to literally all of the peak lord meetings, because he's just a little guy, and god forbid anyone finds SY NOT sitting on WQW's shoulders or cuddled in his embrace. Everyone else is, at first, kind of hesitant because bro that's a child get him OUT of our meetings. Then they're hit with the big ole eyes and they fucking crumble.

[oldoldoldoldold2]

anteater does the sneef snorf. perfect 10/10

[knifeshoeoreofight]

For @rain-drop-sky for all the computer help, and for @nomorelonelydays, to feel better. 

tw: Single very brief, non-detailed mention of animal neglect (Sid has rescue animals). 

Sid loves his job, so much, but if one more mom in yoga pants and a puffy vest hits on him he’s going to scream.

The farm makes the bulk of its revenue during the fall season. Families and school groups flock in to pick out the perfect pumpkin and buy freshly pressed cider. The goats get spoiled rotten, and Puck and Stanley, his team of Percherons, get plenty of exercise taking tourists on hayrides.

The Shetlands he puts in a back pasture, though. Cute as they are, they’re conniving little shitheads, and he has visions of them biting some little kid’s fingers or managing to get loose in the apple orchard and giving themselves colic.

He hadn’t even wanted ponies, but Officer Hornqvist had called him when they were seized by the police in a neglect case, and had asked that since he had a horse trailer and the property, could he keep them for a couple days, et cetera et cetera. He’s taken one look at the tiny, then-skinny ponies with their tangled manes and mud-caked coats and known they were coming home for good.

Now Maple and Biscuit pretty much rule the place. Biscuit once got loose and walked right in the back kitchen door. They boss the enormous Percherons, Eunice the donkey, the goats, and even the dog. Ref is a Border collie and he tried to herd the ponies. Once. And never again.

So when Sid takes a break from the yoga moms and goes to visit them, he’s more than a bit concerned when he sees a little girl standing in front of their paddock.

She’s not supposed to be here, but she looks too little to be able to read the “No Trespassing” signs he puts up around the private areas of the property. She’s not doing anything dangerous, just standing a couple feet back from the fence, hands clasped in front of her. 

When he gets closer he hears that she’s breathlessly and enthusiastically talking to them, in something other than English. Her face, when he can see it, is wearing the rapt expression of a saint receiving an angelic visitation.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sid says softly, trying to not startle her. She jumps anyway, and Sid feels like a monster. She’s precious, with huge dark brown eyes and a big wispy bow in her curling hair. “It’s okay, hon. Do you know where your mom or dad are?”

She just blinks at him, eyes going too shiny and her little chin wobbling. Fuck.

“It’s okay, I promise,” Sid says soothingly, crouching to be more on her level. “Are you lost?”

There isn’t any comprehension on her face. She says something softly in a Slavic-sounding language to Sid, and points a tiny finger at the ponies.

“Yeah,” Sid says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, so she can at least understand his tone. “Ponies! Do you like them?”

Keeping himself from getting any closer to the girl, he awkwardly crouch-shuffles to the fence, where Maple and Biscuit are crowding close in hopes that he has treats in his pockets. Well. He usually does.

He takes a baby carrot from his pocket and lays it on his flattened palm. “Look,” he tells the little girl. He lets Maple snorf up the carrot, then pulls another from his pocket and holds it out enticingly to the little girl. She sniffles but shuffles closer, and holds her hand out. Sid shows her again how to flatten her hand so the ponies won’t accidentally bite her. She’s shaking a little as he gently takes her elbow to guide her hand towards Biscuit.

With atypical gentleness, Biscuit lips up the carrot, and the girl gasps at the whiskery brush of his muzzle. She looks back at Sid, eyes big and shining with wonder. He helps her pet the little star on Biscuit’s forehead and to scratch his withers. Biscuit closes his eyes and leans into the fence with a theatrical groan.

The girl giggles, and while Sid may be susceptible to kids in general, it’s maybe pretty much the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

“Ok?” he asks her, and she nods.

“Ok,” she repeats softly, and then: “Papa?”

“Alright sweetheart, let’s go find Papa,” Sid tells her, and stands, holding out a hand to her. She puts her hand in his and he tries not to die inside from how small it is inside his own.

Halfway back to the shed where the cider press is, Sid sees a tall, distressed-looking man talking to Jake, gesturing and holding a hand above the ground at about the height of the little girl still clutching Sid’s hand.

“Papa!” she cries, and lets go of Sid to go pelting into the man’s knees.

“Sonechka!” the man cries, and scoops her up. He closes his eyes in relief, and clutches his daughter to his chest.

Sid fidgets with one of the sleeves of his flannel where it’s come unrolled. The guy is. Tall. Very.

The man anxiously talks to his daughter in what Sid is beginning to think is Russian for a moment, before she launches into a feverishly excited story, waving her hands and twisting in her father’s arms to point excitedly at Sid.

The man raises his eyes to Sid’s. They’re the same deep, woody brown as his daughter’s.

“She say she got lost and you find her,” he says, the deep, accented rumble of his voice sending a shiver down Sid’s spine. “Also, something about—“

The girl interrupts him with another torrent of words, eyes wide and hands flailing.

“—baby horse?” The man hazards, after she finishes.

“I found her by the ponies,” Sid explains. “She was a little upset so I let her pet them. I hope that was okay.”

“Her favorite thing in world,” the man explains. “She have book and blanket and picture on the wall and tv show, everything ponies. We live in city her whole life. She never see real one before.”

“Oh,” Sid says, and feels his already melting heart completely dissolve. “Would she like to sit on one?”

“Oh no, we cause so much trouble already—“ the man protests, but Sid waves him off.

“It’s no trouble, I swear it’s not. I can tack one of them up and just lead them around a little bit.”

“You sure?” The man asks, and Sid nods. The man explains something to his daughter in Russian. She gasps and goes completely stiff, mouth dropped open.

When she turns around to gape at Sid, the shining amazement in her eyes is worth everything.

***

On the way back to the paddock, Sid learns that the little girl's name is Sofia, and that she’s five. She and her father Evgeni have actually just moved to town for a fresh start. Evgeni is friends with a Russian couple from town called the Gonchars, and is staying with them while he gets settled.

“We need something different,” he says. “Get out of city, move somewhere more healthy for Sofia. She have asthma and city has bad air. Her mama—“ he pauses for a split second. “Her mama go home, to Russia. Not coming back.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sid says softly, heart aching. How could anyone just leave such a precious little girl?

Evgeni shrugs, but Sid can see pain flicker across his face.

Their conversation is interrupted by their arrival at the ponies’ paddock. There’s a high-pitched whicker and then both ponies come trotting to the fence.

“Oohh,” Evgeni says, and the way his face lights up tells Sid he’s as much of an animal lover as his daughter.

A lot of Sid’s friends have kids small enough to still sit on the tiny equines, so he has a set of tack for each. He chooses Maple for Sofia to ride, and lets her help brush Maple’s fuzzy winter coat and shows her how he picks out her hooves.

“We have to make sure there aren’t any rocks stuck in there, or it can hurt their feet,” Sid explains, Evgeni’s murmured translation echoing him. Sofia nods, very intently, and leans down to peer closely at Maple’s foot. After a long inspection, she nods at Sid. Sid hides a smile at how serious she is.

She wants to make a braid in Maple’s mane, and he lets her, even scrounging around for one of the rubber bands he uses when he braids Puck and Stanley’s manes and tails for shows. Evgeni stands off to one side, smiling widely and filming everything on his phone.

Finally the little saddle and pad are in place,  and the girth is tightened. Sid hands the lead rope to Sofia.

“You can walk her out,” he says. “I’m going to walk right on her other side. Are you ready?”

Sofia nods, the child size riding helmet Sid keeps around bobbling a little on her head. Sid kneels to tighten the chinstrap a little and secure it. When he looks up, Evgeni is watching them both with soft, misty eyes.

They carefully walk out, Sid keeping a hand on Maple’s halter, but out of Sofia’s line of sight so she can feel like she’s leading Maple all by herself.

Sid has a sandy roundpen where he exercises his horses, and he takes Maple and Sophia inside. Evgeni leans on the fence while Sid carefully sets Sofia on Maple’s back. Her eyes are wide as saucers as he takes hold of the lead rope and gently tugs Maple forward into a walk.

“Papa,” she says, little voice quavery. To Sid’s horror she’s got fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She sobs out something to her dad.

“Is she scared?” Sid asks. “Do we need to stop?”

“No, no,” Evgeni says, and he swipes at his own wet eyes with one large hand. “She’s just so happy, she says.”

“Aw, hon,” Sid says. His heart is so past melted. It’s evaporating. He leans down to Sofia’s eye level. “You okay?”

She takes a deep, gulping breath and nods, then reaches out with both hands to tug Sid down and give him a strangling hug around his neck, her tear-damp face smashed against his.

“You’re so welcome, sweetheart,” Sid tells her, and straightens to keep leading Maple forward, blinking rapidly to try and keep his own eyes from overflowing.

***

Jake does alright holding down the fort and Sid’s able to give Sofia her ride and to show her how to untack and put away Maple. They all feed handfuls of hay to the ponies and then Sid walks them back to the front of the property and the field where people park their cars.

“Can’t thank enough,” Evgeni tells him. “Can’t...riding lessons so expensive. Would like to give her, but..” He trails off, looking miserable. Sid aches for him.

“All my friends’ kids ride the Shetlands,” he tells Evgeni. “It’s why I bother to keep all the gear for them around, keep their training up. I’d love to have you both back, I really would.”

Evgeni starts making a lot of noise about how he couldn’t possibly, et cetera, and Sid decides he’s going to have to change tactics.

“I’m having the Hornqvists and the Fleurys over for dinner this Saturday night,” he explains. “They both have girls around Sofia’s age. Maple and Biscuit are going to be tacked up anyway. Why don’t you come? Bring Sofia? She can make some friends, you can meet some of the locals. Could be fun.”

“Sid,” Evgeni says, looking a little overcome. “That’s— yes. We can come. Thank you, so much. Not easy, moving to new town.” Something seems to occur to him. “Ok with your family? You have wife, or.” He pauses. “Is okay more people for dinner?”

Sid coughs. “No, uh,no. It’s just me, and all the animals. That’s kinda why I like having people over. Not as lonely.” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Evgeni’s eyes are soft, and he smiles. “That’s good. Good not to be lonely.”

Sid feels his cheeks grow hot. “Yeah.” He can’t seem to look away from Evgeni’s eyes: warm and dark and…. something else.

“Call me Zhenya,” Evgeni says, and he bumps his shoulder gently against Sid’s.

[yorknewclty-blog]

i think you're super cool and sexy and i love you and we're dating and you're perfect and snorf snorf

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SNORF SNORF ❤️💛💚💙💜💖

[peachakean]

i feel so bad during allergy season, not just in the “eurgh blah I have allergies” way but because my Dog, constantly mistaking my allergy sniffling for cry sniffling, keeps jumping up and trying to comfort me because she is a perfect and beautiful creature who wants me to be happy and meanwhile i’m just sitting there like snorf snorf my nose is itchy

[bearotonin-international]

Apologies for it taking a bit longer than intended! It turned out we only had 18 count Aida so I had to change the design. Feel free to DM me where you want it mailed to!

Oh. Oh. Oh. MY. GOD

This. This is

The most

Amazing

Fabulous

Wonderful

Splendid

Beautiful

Fantastic

PERFECT!!!!!!

thing we have ever seen.

We hope you know how much sheer and utter unadulterated JOY you have brought the team. The team is about to cry. The happiest of happy tears. So much bearotonin from this beautiful magnificent astounding respect of snorf

The team loves you so so much. The team loves you endlessly. The team is losing our collective shit