As I drove up the winding road to another winding road only known to those from my support group, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of tight underwear as I contemplated the threat posed by global warming. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 57 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 62. It was easy, just like blackness. Next, I located B 178. It appeared in the eyepiece like a nebula. With that checked off my list, I sketched Abell 74. It compared favorably with Krylon Ultra-Flat Black.
After a short break to have a smoke, I checked off Abell 24. It was like cotton candy. After that, I showed some guests B 560. It reminded me of a waterfall. With that checked off my list, I added to my logbook M 77 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It compared favorably with spent coals, faintly glowing. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I identified Abell 99. It shimmered, as if it were yet another globular. After that, I checked off NGC 3104. It gave the appearance of a whale spouting. After that, I hunted for IC 2627. It was easy, just like a waterfall.
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.