Prime real estate for banjo twanging, grandma's favorite place for hanging. The event horizon of a domicile, take a seat and stay awhile.

I kiss the skin but leave no mark, unless your hand moves fast or sharp. With edge so fine I clear the way, and leave things smooth by end of day.

Riddonkulous has forty, I have thirty-one. I wish I knew what number three is. Start with a type of museum, followed by a word that starts hypotheticals. Finish with a book of the New Testament.

I am many things with many tasks, I swim with sharks and grade the flasks. I summit mountains, I model towns, I measure disasters that bring both down. I rise and fall in musical call, And sometimes I ponder the weight of it all.

My name sounds like a child's toy on a shelf, Joined with a fish's tool for steering itself. I live in a school but I never pass tests, I click and I whistle with air in my chest. What am I?