As I drove up the winding road to my secret observing location, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of the internet 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 3 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 104. It was as bright as a far-away cloud. With that checked off my list, I slewed to M 2 in Sculptor. It seemed almost Miss Piggy. With that checked off my list, I accidentally located M 93. It reminded me of an inflamed monkey butt. Then, I hunted B 294 in Sculptor. It compared favorably with Gollum. Then, for a real challenge, I jumped to IC 3060. It appeared at low power like a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). Then, I star-hopped to Abell 38 in Scorpius. It glowed, rather like Alan Rickman. With that checked off my list, I looked at B 127. It would be easy to confuse with a glimmer of the Big Bang. Then, for a real challenge, I looked for and suspected Abell 47. It reminded me of cream being swirled into hot coffee. After that, I added to my logbook M 54 in Orion. It was like a little triangle. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I checked out NGC 4023 in the western sky. It shimmered, as if it were 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 fetid Dingo's kidneys.