Jesus Christ! Doc, You Disintegrated Whofleck!

Calm down, reader, I didn't disintegrate anything.
The molecular structure of both Whofleck and the blog are perfectly intact.
Where the hell are they, you ask?
The appropriate question is when the hell are they? You see, Whofleck has just become the world's first time-traveler. I sent him...into the past! Three days into the past to be exact.
And at precisely 11:59pm and 59 seconds, he shall catch up with us and the time-blog.


Seriously, now. I wish not for this to be a cool denial of yet another of my failings.
My founder and sponsor was kind enough to speak quietly on my behalf, but there is a new Whofleck in town. He is an educated man. He is a busy man. But he is not without regret, nor mistakes or short-comings.
This is no place for excuses, so consider this repentance:
I have sinned. I have put the blog behind myself, and in doing so raped any meaning my original oath may have held. I beg, and submit, that I shall live for your forgiveness. Fear not; I am no battering husband. I refuse second chances, just give me your open minds.
Things are going to get weird.

"Honey! Where Are The Servants!?"

Since there's no help, come let us twist and fart,
Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am mad, yea, mad with all my heart,
That thus so poorly I myself can flee;
Shake fists for ever, cancel all our rants,
And when we meet in any hell again,
Be it not seen in either of our pants
That we one Lot of former love retain.
Now at the last gas of love's morning breath,
When his pulse flailing, passion shameless lies,
When faith is screaming by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his [something funnier than eyes],
-Now if thou would'st, when all have buried him under,
From love to hate thou might'st him tear asunder!

Sonnet LxXxI, Michael Gayton

/personally beloved poem
//mocked into meaningless gore
///open the door
////get on the floor
/////everybody walk the dinosaur