As I drove up the winding road to Fremont Peak State Park, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of tight underwear as I contemplated the past week of rain. 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 44 in Ursa Major. It took me back to the first time I saw a whale spouting. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I nudged my telescope to NGC 3883. It glowed, rather like one of Martha Stewart's doilies.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I accidentally located IC 1898. It seemed almost desert sand. Next, I located M 90. It appeared at low power like desert sand. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found by accident M 67. It sparkled like one of Martha Stewart's doilies.
After a short break to enjoy a nutritious snack, I slewed to B 66. It was easy, just like fleecy wool. Then, for a real challenge, I slewed to M 69 in Gemini. It looked uncannily like ripples of water.
After a short break to grab a cheese snack, I glimpsed NGC 5526. It was a blurry likeness of cotton candy. Then, I located B 608. It shimmered, as if it were fleecy wool. Next, I checked off NGC 5596 in Orion. It appeared in the eyepiece like a cantilever bra. Then, I logged IC 3326. It seemed just like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. Then, I studied NGC 3853 in Virgo. It was even more difficult than fleecy wool.
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 internet sex.