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[V-Adore]

Another time, the same friend, very drunk, admitted that he was the one who took dumps in random places all over my highschool back in the day, just "as a joke."  Our principal had interrogated students about the identity of the "Brown Bomber" back in the day, but no one knew who it was.  Now I know.  There is no rationalization for this. 

Yeah, I've had this experience. It's really unnerving when the confession is to some strange, unforgivable crime that is still such ancient history that you can't get angry about it and still seem reasonable. The last time this happened to me was shortly after my high-school graduation, at someone else's grad party, where an acquaintance from my junior-year Zoology class admitted that she was the one who had smuggled a dead giraffe out of class after dissections and thrown it down the stairwell at another girl, apparently as part of some byzantine feud. I mean, what do you say to this? My response was "oh," but the runner-up slot was between "wow, that is not a thing that people in civilization do," "so YOU'RE the reason we never dissected again!" and "... okay, I guess Mr. Z's expression the next day was kind of funny..."

[littlefallsmets]

So yeah, I owned a sex doll named Last Call.

See, like, that's the kind of thing I like to see.

If you're going to be on bad terms with civilized society, at least be it in a clever way.

[jaydub]

Well an old doll can rip from any number of reasons.  It's the size of the hole that will reveal its origin.

The parents of one of my college buddies had a dog with a teddy bear fetish.  It was some sort of Japanese breed (middle-sized - 30lbs or so - the dog, that is). We showed up at his parents' house one time and the dog did its "happy to see you" freak-out thing;  barking, leaping, charging madly back and forth etc.  Then it dashed into another room, reappeared with a teddy bear almost its own size, flung the bear into a corner and started frantically humping it like Satan's sewing machine.  My buddy rolled his eyes and apologized for not preparing me for the spectacle.
The bear hadn't started out anatomically correct, so to speak, but the pooch's attention had worn a couple holes in its bottom half.