You can travel around me just by wandering the earth. The famous Trotters wear me proudly in their name to show their basketball worth. I am Shakespeare’s historic stage, a glass light fixture, and a perfect geometric sphere. I am the very map of the world, yet I can mean any round object found right here. What am I?

Helps lift a heavy cup, Or pull a kettle bell right up. It's on a door, a pot, a pan, Grabbed securely by a hand.

In 1834, I was the first of my kind. My one and only job I did just fine. The milkman didn't like me much, but that crisper drawer is oh so clutch.

I swallow your secrets without a complaint, Your crumbs, your wrappers, your things you can’t. I’m fed all day, yet never grow fat, And somehow you’re proud when you empty me at that. I’m where old treasures go to die, Where I might need this goes to lie. I stand in the corner, humble and grim What am I?

If you look at the numbers on my face, you won't find thirteen any place.