I come in many different shapes and sizes. I am not alive but hold something that is. I can be found outside or inside. I do not hold tea but part of my name is shared with a vessel that does.

I build when time is running thin, when expectations close you in. Though not a hand, I still can press, what am I, causing all this stress?

What do you call a noodle with a stolen identity?

Why aren't koalas actual bears? Because they don't meet the...

Doing it to a shirt Doing it to hair Flattening a skirt It's more than hot air