Hard drugs were never my thing. I didn't need Ecstasy to get me sexed up, I was too hyper for heroin, and just imagine a louder, more talkative, more egotistical Raven on cocaine! So I stuck to the basics: pot, alcohol, and pills. I'm sober now, but I do have a lot of great stories. The best ones I don't even remember!

But there is one night that sticks out in my mind as one of the most insane evenings of my life. I went to see a G. G. Allen concert at the now defunct Lismar Lounge. Now G.G. was famous for a number of things, none of which was his music. He enjoyed throwing feces at his audience (he even hit a Geraldo camera!), he often threatened to shoot himself on stage, and he loved to attack the women in his audience. The louder and more provocatively clad, the better. I was his dream girl.

Now I had heard of his reputation, and consequently wore a particularly low cut boustier that evening. I was already quite drunk when I walked into the club. The security guard recognized me (although I had no idea who he was) and quickly slipped me some pills. I was high in no time. I ran into an acquaintance of mine from the band Letch Patrol. Yes, Letch Patrol.