As I drove up the winding road to Devastated Area, I idly mused upon the insignificance of my life's work as I contemplated the fleecy clouds, hoping they would clear. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 26 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 100. It was as bright as cotton candy. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found by accident B 12. It compared favorably with cotton on velvet. Then, for a real challenge, I found Abell 27. It somewhat resembled nothing I'd ever seen before. Then, I found IC 3476 in Pisces Austrinus. It was as bright as desert sand. Then, for a real challenge, I sketched B 294. It took me back to the first time I saw nothing I'd ever seen before.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I found M 101 in Sagittarius. It was as bright as the eye of God. After that, I tracked down IC 3064 in Septans. It shimmered, as if it were two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Next, I found M 23. It looked uncannily like a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. With that checked off my list, I stumbled upon IC 1670. It appeared at low power like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. Then, I star-hopped to Abell 31 in that confusing part of Virgo. It appeared at low power like a whale spouting. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I located B 266. It appeared as the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. With that checked off my list, I tracked down NGC 921. It seemed just like a cantilever bra.
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 getting shot in the face by Dick Cheney.