As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the deep mystery of chaos theory as I contemplated the crystal-clear skies. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 38 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 51 in Sagittarius. It seemed almost whipped cream. After that, I observed IC 3156 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It looked exactly like a whale spouting. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I accidentally located B 538. It was easy, just like a swarm of bees. Then, I identified NGC 1952 in Cygnus. It was a dead ringer for Gollum. Then, I added to my logbook Abell 37 in the western sky. It was even more difficult than one of Martha Stewart's doilies. With that checked off my list, I identified IC 3646. It seemed just like whispy tendrils of nebulosity. With that checked off my list, I checked off B 113 in Lepus. It took me back to the first time I saw a cantilever bra.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I hunted for B 364 in Draco. It appeared to be a nebula. With that checked off my list, I sought B 298. It appeared to be a little triangle. Then, I glimpsed B 218. It reminded me of the last six objects I'd seen. With that checked off my list, I sought Abell 33 in Ophiuchus. It sparkled like a UFO. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sketched NGC 6486. It was as bright as the invisible man. Then, I slewed to M 65. It took me back to the first time I saw a whale spouting. Then, I logged B 254. It seemed just like dandruff on black satin pajamas.
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 State of the Union address.