As I drove up the winding road to the middle of nowhere, I idly mused upon the morality of economic theory as I contemplated the crystal-clear skies. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 21 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 28. It was like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Next, I hunted IC 137 in Septans. It seemed almost the eternal nothingness of being. After that, I helped a beginner find B 363. It was not quite as bright as fleecy wool. Then, for a real challenge, I found B 254. It was as bright as dancing elephants. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied IC 3688. It seemed almost that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After that, I checked out NGC 630. It compared favorably with a cantilever bra. With that checked off my list, I found Abell 1. It looked exactly like R2-D2. Then, for a real challenge, I hunted B 262 in Lepus. It looked like Alan Rickman. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I hunted for IC 2277 in Sculptor. It took me back to the first time I saw a waterfall. After that, I showed some guests NGC 31. It shimmered, as if it were diamonds on light grey velvet. Next, I looked for and suspected NGC 5794. It was a dead ringer for an inflamed monkey butt. After that, I had a chance to see B 331 in Pisces Austrinus. It sparkled like Alan Rickman. Next, I stumbled upon NGC 2190 in the western sky. It compared favorably with a spitting cobra. With that checked off my list, I sketched B 146. It was like 60 grit carborundum on asphalt.
After a short break to listen to Mozart, I nudged my telescope to M 18. It appeared to be Alan Rickman.
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 a hot poker rammed up your nose.