As I drove up the winding road to my home observatory, I idly mused upon the current implications of my life's work as I contemplated the El Nino weather patterns. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 15 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 15. It was better than its Hubble photograph. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I stumbled upon Abell 53. It looked uncannily like the eternal nothingness of being. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found Abell 13. It appeared to be a far-away cloud. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I sketched M 105 in Lynx. It reminded me of the pillars of creation. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I stumbled upon IC 2406. It seemed fainter than that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Next, I showed some guests B 134. It compared favorably with nothing I'd ever seen before.
After a short break to do some yoga, I looked at Abell 63. It was as bright as whispy tendrils of nebulosity. After that, I hunted NGC 634. It seemed almost diamonds on light grey velvet.
After a short break to find a bush to pee on, I logged NGC 6599. It was even more difficult than smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I sought M 36. It shimmered, as if it were dandruff on black satin pajamas. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found M 29 in Perseus. It was not quite as bright as a UFO. Next, I helped a beginner find B 22. It reminded me of Dubya.
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 root canal.