As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of underwater basket weaving as I contemplated the shrinking ozone layer. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 20 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 7. It seemed just like a smoke ring. Next, I nudged my telescope to IC 364. It appeared to be a spitting cobra. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I showed some guests M 75. It was like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I stumbled upon M 54 in Canes Venatici. It seemed almost a spider. Then, for a real challenge, I had a chance to see IC 2405. It was easy, just like its Hubble photograph. Then, for a real challenge, I tried IC 503. It looked exactly like cotton candy. Then, I checked out M 59. It was even more difficult than cotton on velvet. Then, I located NGC 5222. It was easy, just like blackness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied B 43. It appeared in the eyepiece like the pillars of creation. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked for and suspected Abell 22. It seemed fainter than all the other smudges I've ever looked at. After that, I located NGC 5048. It was as bright as whipped cream.
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 poke in the eye with a frozen dishrag.