I got yet another of those xxx-rated pieces of spammail today . . . entitled “Bazar Fetishes.”
This is unintentionally weird, of course, but it did set me to giggling . . . and wondering: what IS a “Bazar Fetish?”
I await your best guesses as to what they were getting at. . . or what you think it might be.
I’m braced.
your humble TubaDiva
Administrator
Sex in a Turkish Mall, obviously 
Coldfire, the next time you beat me to the punch, I will fly over there and… and… I dunno. Buy you a beer?
Sure thing, Cynical! BTW, how’s the li’l one?
Elephants, of course. OH! No wait, that’s a BABAR fetish.
Sometimes, when I go into an open air market, I first waft through the fish section. There’s this certain je ne sais whutever that percolates my underthoughts.
Then, I head to the produce, to ogle the cucumbers. The cool cool cucumbers. I put several of the most firm offerings in my basket. And a nice ripe cantalope,too. Several bananas, then in a bold move, the wayward avocado.
Yet, with my basket full, I’m not ready for the final register. I wanna haggle, dammit, I wanna haggle on the particular virtues of the produce in question. I wanna hear where it came from, and why I should make it part and parcel of my ownself. I want to be able to look into the eyes of whomever I’m buying my sustanence from and feel that it’s money well-spent.
Okeydoke, there’s my bazaar fetish.
Bazar Fetish. Hmmmm. Sounds like a middle-eastern delicacy to me. I’ll have some Bazar Fetish and Hummus, thanks.
I’ll have the Bazar Fetish with Hummus * and * Fellini…err…tahini.
I had a bazaar fetish once. I just couldn’t stay away from the damn things. Stupid charities. They taint the finger sandwiches to make you want to come back. It’s a conspiracy. Oh! Bizarre fetish story! Yeah, okay.
I can’t say that I have a bizarre fetish. I would say, however, that a good one (in a bizarre sense) would be role playing in which the player “becomes” someone who would have been of authorative status when their partner was a child. Mom, Dad, Teacher, Cop. Whatever. I think role playing during sex is silly anyway. If you need me to pretend I’m someone else, you don’t want to be with ME. In which case, I’m sending your ass packing.
Another one that I consider odd is the violence fetish. People who need their hair pulled or need to be slapped or called names strike me as fairly odd, to say the least. Not just people who want these things done but people who wish to do them to others too. YMMV, however. This is just my own personal view on the matter.
well, I’ve been shy about mentioning this, but every once in a while I get this urge to go rooting through a camel’s intestines looking for hard masses -
oh! bazar, not bezoar …
TubaDiva said:
Bazar Fetish was the Minister of Defense for the Ottoman Empire during the First World War. When the Empire–one of the Central Powers, along with Germany and Austria-Hungary–lost the war, he was beheaded right before the government collapsed. His well-known proclivities for strange sexual practices became fodder for ridicule among the Turks–“Bazar Fetish” became the term for any sexual interest that struck the majority as odd. (Also see the term “icky-poo.”)
Eventually, though “Fetish” survived, the “Bazar” was lost as a sexual term, or was corrupted into “bizarre.”
This post guaranteed to be 100% fact-free.