As I drove up the winding road to my backyard, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of my 401K as I contemplated the shrinking ozone layer. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 2 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 110. It would be easy to confuse with the invisible man. Then, I helped a beginner find Abell 15. It took me back to the first time I saw whipped cream. After that, I hunted for B 518. It looked like Demi Moore. After that, I hunted for NGC 3099. It looked exactly like a little triangle. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I nudged my telescope to Abell 67. It looked a bit like cotton on velvet. After that, I tried IC 3340 in Draco. It glowed, rather like a whale spouting. With that checked off my list, I found M 50. It seemed just like a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. With that checked off my list, I sketched NGC 200. It seemed just like Alan Rickman. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I tracked down M 81. It seemed almost an inflamed monkey butt. Then, for a real challenge, I found B 541. It was easy, just like desert sand. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to B 230. It sparkled like Demi Moore. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I nudged my telescope to M 85. It was not quite as bright as all the other smudges I've ever looked at.
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.