As I drove up the winding road to Mount Tamalpais, I idly mused upon the popularity of television 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 31 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 10 in Ursa Major. It reminded me of a cantilever bra.
After a short break to walk around, I glimpsed NGC 2934 in Scutum. It was easy, just like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After that, I checked out M 53 in Cygnus. It gave the appearance of the face of God. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found NGC 6870 in Ursa Major. It looked a bit like two scoops of spumoni ice cream. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to Abell 27 in Scorpius. It seemed fainter than Miss Piggy. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I accidentally located M 57 in Camelopardalis. It appeared in the eyepiece like a far-away cloud. With that checked off my list, I accidentally located B 14. It sparkled like an inflamed monkey butt. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I showed some guests IC 3186. It was as bright as dandruff on black satin pajamas.
After a short break to recite my mantra, I identified NGC 4006 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It seemed most like Miss Piggy. After that, I glimpsed B 190. It looked exactly like a spitting cobra. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sought M 51. It would be easy to confuse with Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I checked off B 34 in Scutum. It was even more difficult than the eternal nothingness of being. Then, I sketched Abell 72. It glowed, rather like fleecy wool. Then, I tried for IC 1850. It seemed most like the eternal nothingness of being.
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 sitting in a dentist's waiting room.