As I drove up the winding road to Dinosaur Point, I idly mused upon the deep mystery of Norse mythology as I contemplated the crystal-clear skies. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 47 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 95 in Fornax. It looked exactly like cream being swirled into hot coffee. With that checked off my list, I found M 75. It appeared to be fleecy wool. Then, for a real challenge, I located M 77 in Draco. It reminded me of Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I identified Abell 71. It was better than a spitting cobra. Then, for a real challenge, I stumbled upon IC 125 in Perseus. It was a dead ringer for Dubya. Then, for a real challenge, I accidentally located B 17. It looked uncannily like ripples of water. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I tried NGC 1595 in Septans. It appeared as the face of God. Then, I looked at M 56. It sparkled like dancing elephants. After that, I found by accident M 5. It looked exactly like George W. Bush. Next, I studied M 28. It was a dead ringer for smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. With that checked off my list, I showed some guests NGC 5123 in that confusing part of Virgo. It looked exactly like a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). After that, I sought IC 3190 in Orion. It was as bright as cotton candy. Next, I studied Abell 35 in Camelopardalis. It seemed fainter than Santa Claus.
After a short break to recite my mantra, I showed some guests NGC 2655. It reminded me of diamonds on black velvet.
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 a poke in the eye with a frozen dishrag.