bee **** just flows from my tongue better than bee vomit. Plus "****" was a word we could say without getting into too much trouble when we were little. Mostly because my grandpa called everything ****. Never said ****, but could use **** for everything.
We didn't have boots, we had **** kickers. we sometimes got to eat **** on a shingle, and when we'd say it, he'd laugh while our parents told us not to say that. When he died, my grandma let us in on the secret that honey was really bee **** according my grandpa. he was part Polish, so he may have gotten the two "ends" confused. But it will always be bee **** to me