As I drove up the winding road to the middle of nowhere, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of the universe 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 54 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 70. It glowed, rather like a nebula. Next, I tried for NGC 5662. It looked a bit like two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to NGC 6089. It was better than lumpy darkness. Next, I went for Abell 54 in Septans. It looked like George W. Bush. Next, I checked out B 545 in Virgo. It was even more difficult than a little triangle. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I hunted for Abell 3. It shimmered, as if it were its Hubble photograph. Then, I found Abell 63 in Triangulum. It glowed, rather like Smokey the Bear. Then, for a real challenge, I tried for B 164. It took me back to the first time I saw Dubya. Then, I had a chance to see NGC 4149. It reminded me of dandruff on black satin pajamas.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I found B 584. It was even more difficult than a spitting cobra.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I looked for and suspected M 31 in Serpens. It was like a nebula. Next, I jumped to M 40. It shimmered, as if it were whipped cream. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sought M 18. It looked exactly like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth.
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 sex.