What do you get when a telescope crashes into a microscope?

I’m fashion’s apology for bad weather. I make you crinkle, swish, and smell faintly like plastic, but once my is done you hang me up like a wet flag.

What gets stroked before a finished load?

I sound like a goose that learned how to yell, but I need air and squeezing to work well. I never play quietly, day or night, love me or fear me, I bring loud delight.

I may meander, but I’m not lost I had a point to make, but my mind went astray I’m when you leave the beaten path You let your eyes roam and suffer Your girlfriends wrath.