As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of Dilbert as I contemplated the approaching chlorofluorocarbons ... would it be warmer tonight?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 42 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 71. It looked exactly like a far-away cloud. After that, I tracked down IC 757. It looked like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. With that checked off my list, I found by accident M 96. It was even more difficult than its Hubble photograph. Next, I tried for IC 3013. It looked a bit like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After that, I looked for and suspected IC 3139. It was not quite as bright as the face of God. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied B 24 in Cygnus. It looked like 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I sketched M 32 in Draco. It was better than whipped cream. After that, I had a chance to see M 21. It looked like cotton on velvet. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I jumped to NGC 5968. It reminded me of its Hubble photograph. After that, I tried M 22. It was even more difficult than lumpy darkness. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked for and suspected Abell 30 in Ophiuchus. It was easy, just like the face of God.
After a short break to do some yoga, I sketched M 27. It was as bright as the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. With that checked off my list, I studied IC 3108 in Lynx. It seemed most like black pearls on flocked paper. After that, I checked out NGC 5192 in Lepus. It somewhat resembled dandruff on black satin pajamas. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I hunted NGC 3884 in Fornax. It compared favorably with black pearls on flocked paper. With that checked off my list, I glimpsed B 563. It was easy, just like the eye of God. Next, I looked at B 362. It gave the appearance of a spider. After that, I located NGC 1469. It was better than a cantilever bra.
After a short break to find a bush to pee on, I tracked down M 8 in Camelopardalis. It appeared at low power 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 being ravaged by savage wild wombats.