A flamingo once asked how many of these you have to eat before you make your skin turn pink. Eat too much and you'll get sick. These are pretty rich.

I might me made of rubber, I might be made of goo, I might be made of skin and bones and organs, just like you. Close it up, lock it tight, make sure none can get in. We’ll be back soon, I can not miss, Kiss from a Rose again!

Neatly stacked with care and flair, a tower of warmth in the open air. Awaiting flames with patient grace, a cozy hearth's embrace.

And here am-I showing where the wind goes!

I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?