"My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?"

"What goes through your breeches without leaving a hole?"

"He who makes it, sells it. He who buys it, doesn't use it. He who uses it, doesn't know it. What is it?"

Art by https://www.weasyl.com/~henrieke