Today is Brian Moylan's last day here at Gawker. Brian is on to bigger and better things and though we will miss him dearly, we know he and his mustache will continue to rile up the Internet from wherever they go.

We bid you farewell, dearest Brian!

Hamilton Nolan: I have absolutely nothing in common with Brian Moylan. He is tall, I am short. He has a mustache, I do not. He likes to recap television shows that I do not watch. He likes to have sex with people of a different gender than I prefer. He does not like cheese. But the biggest difference of all took some time to discover: he is a much, much more friendly dude than me. Although Brian has a very well-cultivated reputation for public bitchiness, he is, in fact, one of the nicest people ever to grace the Gawker masthead. He even invited us all to his birthday party and gave away free porn. He has a heart as big as his mustache. Big, thick, and bushy.

Brian Moylan has heart that will never "shut up." We will hear from him, forever, loudly.

Maureen: Brian Moylan taught me everything I know about the following topics: twincest, JWoww, poppers, Grindr, thruples, gift-wrapping, marauding drag queens, the correct pronunciation of "Biel," Marc Jacobs' love life, Calvin Klein's love life, Nick Denton's love life, affordable lunch options in SoHo, and the exact consistency of santorum.

Every time Brian walks into a room, he's simultaneously the nastiest gossip and the guy with the most friends. It's a remarkable feat pulled off by sheer force of charm: Brian Moylan, the most lovable hater in New York.

Leah: From day one, Brian took me on as his personal slave wingman. Together, we pored over Jersey Shore clips and stills to make the world's best power point presentation, emptied Shutterstock to create immaculate works of Photoshopped art, and sifted through countless Grindr profiles…just ‘cause. Needless to say, dear BrianOhBrian is the silliest, loudest, and best seat-mate-to-the-left a lady could ask for. Thankfully, I have endless amounts of emailed porn (saved under BrianYikesStayOut) to remember him by. We will think of you Brian, when the wind howls across Soho and from the Gawker roof above there comes a single, perfect, "Hey Gurl."

John: Brian Moylan will tell you to go fuck yourself with the most pleasant, polite, assured look on his mustachioed face. He is truly unflappable, and isn't afraid to tell you what he thinks, which is one reason he is one of the internet's most accomplished bomb-throwers. His honesty will be missed, as will his appreciation for my periodic imposition of the Liz Phair and Sleater-Kinney catalogues on my unsuspecting colleagues via the office stereo. What will not be missed is his insistence, against all logic, reason, and decorum, on wearing shorts to the office in the summer. Actually I will miss that too.

Max: In 2010, Brian Moylan was nice enough to invite me to his birthday party, even though we'd never spoken, and I'd only been working the night shift at Gawker for a few weeks. He was even nicer in person, at the party, which I barely remember: there were cupcakes baked inside ice cream cones, somehow, and a topless woman with a strap-on). Since then I've tried to live up to his remarkable ability to be an impeccably kind, open and loyal person, even while working at Gawker — if only because it seems easier to match him on that than on his unbelievably quick and funny blogging skills.

Emma: I do not know Brian Moylan very well, because I just got here, but I am so very grateful for how kind he was to me when I first arrived from the other side of the office. I will forever admire and hope to emulate his ability to casually break down social/cultural phenomena such as Jersey Shore's Meatballs in just a few words, along with his willingness to go public with opinions as contentious as hating cheese. I also hope to have his mustache some day, because, well, duh.

Toder: When I first started at Gawker, an email from Brian was the worst possible way my day could go as it meant I would spend the next hour or so pulling between five and seven thousand clips from whatever show he was recapping that day. But then again, Brian was always unflinchingly polite when changing his mind halfway through so it wasn't all bad. We didn't really work together until Debi Mazar and her husband Gabriele Corcos taught him how to flip a pancakeand after that I learned just how great a guy Brian is - he's warm and funny, full of an incredible number of ideas that are equally hilarious and insane. And his mustache is irreplaceable. Werk, Brian.