As I drove up the winding road to my driveway, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of tight underwear as I contemplated the ominous thunderheads on the horizon. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 57 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 59 in Virgo. It appeared as a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). Next, I accidentally located M 85 in Lepus. It was a blurry likeness of one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to M 55. It reminded me of the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Next, I tried B 538. It looked exactly like two scoops of spumoni ice cream. After that, I stumbled upon B 624 in Lepus. It was easy, just like Miss Piggy.
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 being ravaged by savage wild wombats.