As I drove up the winding road to the Peak, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of chaos theory as I contemplated the fleecy clouds, hoping they would clear. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 48 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 99. It shimmered, as if it were the invisible man. Then, for a real challenge, I tracked down Abell 82. It appeared as a spitting cobra. Then, I sketched M 33. It was a blurry likeness of that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Then, for a real challenge, I found by accident Abell 77. It reminded me of the exhaust from a diesel Suburban.
After a short break to gulp down my remaining canned margaritas, I looked for and suspected NGC 1887. It reminded me of lumpy darkness. Then, for a real challenge, I tried B 119. It was a blurry likeness of the exhaust from a diesel Suburban.
Finally, it was time to pack up and leave. As I drove home, I contemplated the events of the night, and realized that any night out under the sky with good friends is better than stale peeps.