As I drove up the winding road to my backyard, I idly mused upon the morality of tight underwear as I contemplated the El Nino weather patterns. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 36 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 61. It was a blurry likeness of Gollum. Next, I star-hopped to Abell 71. It reminded me of diamonds on light grey velvet. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sought Abell 41. It reminded me of one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After that, I had a chance to see M 64. It was a dead ringer for the eternal nothingness of being. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I went for IC 2610. It took me back to the first time I saw blackness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I observed B 599. It was better than all the other smudges I've ever looked at. Then, for a real challenge, I accidentally located Abell 3. It was better than black pearls on flocked paper.
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 being ravaged by savage wild wombats.