As I drove up the winding road to the Peak, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of the universe as I contemplated the threat posed by global warming. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 24 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 99. It seemed fainter than a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. Next, I studied B 327. It compared favorably with the eternal nothingness of being.
After a short break to cut some cheese, I glimpsed M 94. It looked a bit like the eye of God. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I star-hopped to M 57 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It was like Alan Rickman. Next, I added to my logbook B 644. It reminded me of two scoops of spumoni ice cream.
After a short break to check my email, I went for NGC 4052. It reminded me of cotton on velvet. After that, I identified M 44 in Pisces Austrinus. It shimmered, as if it were a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. Then, I identified Abell 44. It appeared at low power like whipped cream. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I logged NGC 6336. It was like cotton candy. Then, I sought B 53 in Fornax. It seemed just like two scoops of spumoni ice cream. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I went for B 374 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It was a blurry likeness of a whale spouting. Next, I sought NGC 3376. It appeared as dandruff on black satin pajamas. Then, I found by accident Abell 57. It shimmered, as if it were an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane.
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 night watching an I Love Lucy marathon on Nick at Night.