I first read this totally bananagrams Vows column in the New York Times late Friday night, but, just as it took Adrianne Mathiowetz and Janaka Stucky three marriage proposals, a mushroom trip, a vivid nightmare and a viewing of the film Moon to finally understand the depth of their love for one another, it took me a full day and a plastic bottle of Olde English 800 to realize my love for this astounding piece of journalism.

The entire story is worth reading two or four times (spoiler: they get married!), but the best part was when the Times, in its clinically avuncular way, describes the effects of hallucinogenic mushrooms to its polished readership.

The story has been edited since Friday, but I prefer the old version, which describes Mathiowetzā€™s hell ride as ā€œa mushroom fueled journey through spaceā€ which ā€œlanded them back in each otherā€™s orbs.ā€ Whoooaaa:


ā€œWhat is this, the Daily News?ā€ you can practically hear the editor sneer through the slashing of the red pen.


ā€œThough her body was frozen, her mind began racing.ā€ (Slash)

ā€œI couldnā€™t remember who I was or what my name was or what Earth was like,ā€ she said. ā€œI felt as if I were hurtling through space.ā€ (Slash slash slash slash)


Just once, Iā€™d like to see what the Times would look like if all the editors took off for a day or two, like the journalistic equivalent of The Purge.

Image via Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas/screengrab