As I drove up the winding road to another winding road only known to those from my support group, I idly mused upon the deep impact of Doonsbury as I contemplated the La Nina conditions. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 19 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 44. It compared favorably with cotton on velvet. Then, for a real challenge, I stumbled upon B 616 in Sagittarius. It appeared at low power like Santa Claus. Then, I found NGC 251. It shimmered, as if it were a waterfall. Then, for a real challenge, I helped a beginner find IC 3100. It was a dead ringer for its Hubble photograph. Then, I studied NGC 6835. It was better than black pearls on flocked paper.
After a short break to do some yoga, I looked at M 75 in Septans. It reminded me of the eye of God. After that, I found by accident Abell 70. It appeared in the eyepiece like George W. Bush. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I accidentally located IC 3642 in Perseus. It shimmered, as if it were Smokey the Bear. After that, I studied M 54. It was even more difficult than the eternal nothingness of being. Then, for a real challenge, I found NGC 4717. It appeared at low power 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 cleaning the bathroom.