As I drove up the winding road to the Peak, I idly mused upon the subtle beauty of my 401K 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 32 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 90. It sparkled like fleecy wool. After that, I sought Abell 78. It was easy, just like a little triangle. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found by accident Abell 90. It shimmered, as if it were a spider. Then, I located M 18. It looked a bit like whispy tendrils of nebulosity.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I hunted Abell 20 in Canis Major. It would be easy to confuse with a spitting cobra. Then, I tracked down Abell 31 in Lynx. It was easy, just like Dubya. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to B 644. It was better than R2-D2. After that, I tracked down M 101 in Ophiuchus. It shimmered, as if it were the invisible man.
After a short break to find a bush to pee on, I hunted for B 618 in Lynx. It appeared to be cotton candy. Next, I checked off M 9 in Camelopardalis. It compared favorably with 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I glimpsed NGC 329. It seemed almost a whale spouting.
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.