As I drove up the winding road to Sierra Buttes, I idly mused upon the inner workings of the internet 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 59 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 8. It looked exactly like blackness. After that, I found by accident IC 3626. It was a dead ringer for Demi Moore. Next, I found NGC 1150. It looked a bit like ripples of water. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I sketched M 36. It was not quite as bright as dandruff on black satin pajamas. Then, I jumped to M 22. It seemed most like an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I accidentally located B 557. It seemed most like Santa Claus. Next, I sought M 60. It reminded me of a waterfall. Next, I star-hopped to IC 2384. It was a dead ringer for a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. After that, I observed Abell 33. It appeared at low power like the pillars of creation. With that checked off my list, I went for Abell 60. It was easy, just like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Then, for a real challenge, I identified B 512. It shimmered, as if it were the clouds I'd seen earlier. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I hunted for NGC 5761. It was a blurry likeness of a spider. After that, I logged Abell 91 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It looked like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Next, I hunted IC 3491 in Lepus. It seemed fainter than one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After that, I star-hopped to NGC 469. It appeared as spent coals, faintly glowing.
After a short break to have a smoke, I studied B 248 in Lynx. It appeared as the face of God. Then, I went for Abell 73 in Perseus. It gave the appearance of a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I observed B 457 in Orion. It appeared in the eyepiece like a swarm of bees. Then, I slewed to IC 1767. It shimmered, as if it were a Black Rider hunting for Frodo.
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 fetid Dingo's kidneys.