There are bits of family which defy description. I do not mean that metaphorically. They know you are trying and they will resist.


/ˈbækˈjɑːrd/ back·yard

A pile of shit embedded with a crayon. A crunched and vomited frog. Heck, even a mosquito bite on the tip of the glans. No, really. It was always full of horrid potential.