Answer:
I am partially baked. I am not completely lit. I am a portion of the moon. I am lesser than full wit. I am a divider of the hour. I am not a total lie. I am a sibling through one parent.
I am the place where yesterday is always before today. What am I?
I am just two and two. I am hot. I am cold. I am the parent of numbers that cannot be told. I am a gift beyond measure a matter of course. I am given with pleasure when taken by force.
I suck.
What building has the most stories?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?