Crafting queen, exploding table: Five disturbing things about Martha Stewart

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The aftermath of the table explosion.
There's something inherently unsettling about a person as perfect-seeming as Martha Stewart, something steely and cold within that gaze of practiced affability that belies a certain underlying strain. You get the sense that, like all things tightly wound beyond their breaking point, Martha Stewart must eventually explode.

So it's a weirdly apt metaphor for Stewart herself that apparently her products have the same problem; over the weekend, an Arvada family was surprised when their Living-brand glass-topped table spontaneously exploded, showering them with jagged projectiles.

It wouldn't be the first time a Martha Stewart glass-topped table has gone off like a cluster bomb -- hundreds of complaints about the same thing rolled in when the table debuted in 2005, and it was later redesigned. When Martha Stewart herself detonates, though, there can be no recall -- and we're pretty sure she will. Here's why:

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She's done prison time
While we're not that worried about her crime (the white-collar and innocuous offense of insider trading, which we're actually doing in the other tab right now), doing hard time in prison is no fucking around -- it's not at all like the Shawshank Redemption. Stewart seemed pretty uptight before she ever went up the river, and there's little doubt that repeated instances of hot prisoner-on-Martha-Stewart baster-rape (confirmed: there is porno of this) did nothing good for her fragile psyche.

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Her dogs have a blog
Indeed, it was upon her release from prison in 2005 (around the time of the exploding tables -- revenge?) that cracks in the facade began to develop, and Stewart started to get really weird. Evidently no longer satisfied with crafts as an emotional outlet, Stewart also blogs from the perspective of her two French bulldogs in The Daily Wag, in which said bulldogs, Francesca and Sharkey, refer to themselves as "We, Frenchies," manifesto-style, and speak as one entity.

Her dogs possibly hate her
Under the strain of that kind of emotional weight, it's perhaps no surprise that the Frenchies would react with hate and fear. Earlier this year, the aforementioned Francesca gouged Stewart on the lip when Stewart bent down to "whisper goodbye" to the dog -- which is pretty understandable, because if Stewart leaned down to whisper goodbye to us, we'd probably assume we were about to get murdered. "I must have startled her, because she bolted upright with such force that she hit me in the face like a boxing glove hitting an opponent's face," Stewart recalled of the incident on her personal blog (the dog offered no account on its own blog). "I felt a bit of whiplash as blood gushed forth from my split lip." Ah yes, the blood. It is only with pain that Stewart is able to feel human.

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Her baby Halloween costumes are disturbingly cannibalistic
You know those Looney Tunes where the characters are really hungry and they imagine other characters as a cooked roast with an apple in their mouth? This pretty much looks like that, except it is an actual baby. Now, just pack the rest of that thing with shards of glass, add gushing blood and enjoy!

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5 comments
GFTW
GFTW

This tidbit is kinda disturbing:

"Stewart dated Sir Anthony Hopkins, but the relationship was short-lived since she decided to cut it short after seeing The Silence of the Lambs, due to her being unable to avoid associating him with the character of Hannibal Lecter."

Ol Martha has problems discerning make-believe from reality.

Jennifoodie
Jennifoodie

I watched this hapless Fraulein make marshmallows by hand once on her show. A bag of emeffing marshmallows costs less than an emeffing dollar to buy. There is no amount of Vicodin I could chow down that would persuade me to peep her show ever, ever again. 

GFTW
GFTW

I count only four things...

Jef Otte
Jef Otte

I count the exploding table as one.

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