I can be super and thousands tune in. But I'm usually in your cupboard, And when you drop me I break, to much chagrin.

I have lobes but no ears to hear yet I understand your words perfectly. On my own I am mute but I sometimes may have very much to say.

My first is at its best when smoked My second is a tease or a parody quite mean. All together, I’m a nice hang on a Sunday afternoon.

I wear a coat you’ll never sew, I curve where straight things rarely go. I split in three, yet stay as one, Peel my secret, what am I?

Formerly associated with the labor of the ancestors, Now I'm mostly known as a shape, where the higher part of me gets smaller. My volume is one-third my base area multiplied by how tall I am.