As I drove up the winding road to my home observatory, I idly mused upon the deep impact of tight underwear as I contemplated the shrinking ozone layer. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 9 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 50. It glowed, rather like the eternal nothingness of being. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied B 160 in Canis Major. It sparkled like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. Next, I located NGC 1396 in Antlia. It looked like spent coals, faintly glowing. Then, for a real challenge, I found IC 305. It compared favorably with smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. Then, for a real challenge, I accidentally located IC 1773. It would be easy to confuse with a swarm of bees. Then, I looked for and suspected IC 190. It was even more difficult than a little triangle. Then, for a real challenge, I observed IC 2903. It looked a bit like a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to B 299. It seemed fainter than diamonds on light grey velvet. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I stumbled upon M 51 in Lynx. It was a dead ringer for whispy tendrils of nebulosity. After that, I observed NGC 1367 in Canes Venatici. It appeared to be a whale spouting. Then, I identified Abell 54. It appeared as Dubya. After that, I identified NGC 5281 in Sculptor. It gave the appearance of a Black Rider hunting for Frodo.
After a short break to converse with an owl, I found by accident NGC 5549. It compared favorably with the invisible man. Then, for a real challenge, I tried Abell 36 in Scorpius. It looked exactly like a whale spouting.
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 reading Beowulf in Old English.