My favourite Vegemite memory is myself and three friends taking a plate of properly spread Vegemite bread to a bar in Upstate New York. We were a spectacle (even the town Mayor came out that night!) but no one wanted to try the bread. At one point, one of my friends was sitting in a booth, crying and stuffing her face with the bread in order to try and sober up. Meanwhile I horrified a room full of Americans with my liberal use of the word cunt.