Keep it clean, when chatting in public. Do Not disrespect either the feet, or the other viewers. If you want to chat in Private, you are more than welcome to send me a text. Cheers lads and dads!

Just old enough to be someone's boy and just young enough to be someone's uncle. Just here to air out the feet, and it's cool to have company while I work at my desk. #feet #uncle. In this house we respect pronouns; Sir, Daddy, Lord Sole are some acceptable options.

There’s a whole world under a desk that most people never think about. Up top, life's emails, meetings, and tapping of keys. Down here, it’s rhythm, routine, and the quiet language of movement. The chair creaks into position, the familiar shuffle of papers, and then—there they are. Grounded. Steady. Present. Feet don’t lie, fidget when the inbox fills too quickly. They stretch out when a problem is finally solved. They tap, lightly at first, then faster, like a metronome keeping time with a busy mind. Sometimes they go still—completely still—and you just know something serious is being thought through. By mid-morning, the energy shifts. One foot slips out, relaxed, casual. A sign of comfort. Of being in the flow. The world above the desk is intense, but down here, it’s just instinct and habit. People think work happens at eye level—on screens, in meetings, in conversations. Sometimes, the real story of the day is written just beneath the desk.

Currently not set to any particular times. You'll likely find me here between 12h30 and 6h30EST, while I'm at work. You're welcome to join me, under my desk, keeping me company and behave.