Last night inspired this Blog; how I dragged myself to a party at Club Plum so that my sweetheart wouldn’t be out there without wings. (Not that she doesn’t have wings of her own, just that I am the Angel’s Wings—as she is for me in certain ways). And why is it that I have to drag myself? Because my party days and nights are limited. I’ll do very few of them throughout the year because, in fact, I find more productive hours at this blessed computer than I do at live events. My baby says the computer is my “other girlfriend,” but the truth is the computer is not as orgasmic as she is. Besides that, I find quality time and time well spent when I’m programming all of these Internet Broadcasts and consulting people to help them make more money in their lives. I find myself wearing the “Life Coach” hat or the “Producer’s” hat, and yeeeeeees, the “Author/Publisher” hat. In a nutshell, I’m fucking busy!
Nevertheless, regarding the night I faced; it wasn’t planned by me and I didn’t know the promoters, so I felt out of pocket, with no seat at the steering wheel of where I was going, who I was meeting, or what activities the night had in store. I was naked! I felt even more disturbed to find out that the (so-called) guest list meant you had to wait in a line to the left of the entrance. Now, humble I can be when necessary (really), but family I haven’t waited in line to get into a club in over 15 years. I do the red carpet bit, I move myself through the velvet ropes, and those who know my background (from the Fun House, to Roseland, to Bentley’s to Gilmore’s Fools Paradise) see my face and invite me through. That’s just the way I’m livin; wearing that whole “been there-done that” sensibility like a hidden bullet-proof vest. A few minutes go by, I see a number of people being permitted in through the left side of the club, and my ego is sayin’ WHOA. Who the fuck are they!? Because, not for nothin’, but I’ve written a few gangsta books in my time. And (I say to the doorman/promoter/host) “I don’t wait on nobody’s club list. Really.” Now (Hi Hater!) you may call this cocky, but I see it as the badge I’ve earned, the dues I’ve paid and the weight I carry. Sue me. But homie pulls me aside. “How many are you?” The host/promoter asks.“Four,” I replied. And we were ushered to the right side (or maybe the ‘correct’ side) of velvet ropes. Inside, the club was nearly wall-to-wall with party-people.
The two drinks I bought cost us $26.00 (plus tip). And the crowd was fairly young and energetic. I didn’t recognize any faces, but time and again people would ask if I’m the one who writes the books. (I guess that’s me) But I’m thinking that in such an intense atmosphere nobody gives a shit about a writer—1 book, 10 books, or 100 books. So, I rather maintained my unimpressed state of mind and I do as the Romans do when in Rome. Meanwhile, it’s the V.I.P. area for me, and the first person I run into is the birthday girl, Krista. Krista is apparently a video vixen (or soon to be) and she’s connected just as she is beautiful. So, she had all the elements of a party. Naturally, I’m playing journalist on this particular evening, because this event was NOT about me, but Krista and her success. The interesting part of the night was running into Heather Hunter, who (as I told her) has been able to maintain “relevance” through all these years. She seemed taken back some at my excitement (maybe an assessment of some kind?) but she was at least comfortable enough to share info about her new deal with Spike TV (Congrats, Double H-hee hee, had to throw that in!)
Forget the fact that Heather’s infinitely entertaining porn videos (and her infinitely entertaining mouth!) are legendary and that they sure taught a sex fiend like me what it was like (or what it should be like) to get a proper blow job. Forget the fact that Heather was often showcased at Gilmore’s (my dad’s old titty bar). And you can even forget the fact that Heather spent many nights over my house as the love interest of my best friend (shout out to Demetrius). FORGET ALL THAT. I was weighing in on the idea that after all these years, Heather and I have come full circle; she’s traveled in her many ways and means, as have I, and we’ve both lived to talk about it, to teach about it and to write about it. Heather is now an author with the same publisher I work with (St. Martin’s Press), and we run into one another from time to time at book functions. Now, after so many phone calls, and our agreement just moths ago, Heather & I were supposed to do a photo shoot together to help promote our respective books. However, some bullshit red-tape has gotten in the way (red tape is a nice way of saying “Hater” or “Slacker”) and thus the shoot has not come to life, yet. However, I will not let my fans down. You will soon get to see the Relentless one buffed and airbrushed! (kidding) Meanwhile, as Heather and I have (within minutes) revisited the past, other notable personalities entered the V.I.P. area. The Terrero Brothers aka Jesse & Ulysses Terrero came in with their crew, and I immediately had to speak with one or both of them. Some of you know this story, others don’t. Now you will all know. Months ago, there was a video shoot and casting call for a new 50 Cent video. I get the call from a friend about the casting call, and I immediately figure this would be good fodder for THISIS50.COM, you know, the popular website that 50Cent promotes so much. I have also met with and negotiated with Skip, one of the site proprietors about providing content for the site. Long story-short, Skip was with it; nothing better (I suppose) than a G-Unit author writing some more riveting content for the site. *Actually, I now have a presence on the ning-fueled site, but they have not embraced my talents as I might get on other social sites like Myspace, Facebook, Linkedin, Ning or Shelfari. I even get better connectivity on Twitter, truth be told. Fact is, there’s so much going on and so much presented to that site from so many sources, that Relentless Aaron might be boring if weighed against, say, a guy getting hit by a car, or Paris Hilton wearing her lover’s panties on her face (or her father’s). Neertheless, the site has in fact become another TMZ, only with more color. So, props to the folks that run THISIS50.COM. So, back to my story: with that brand new alliance I decide to follow in my Gordon Parks shoes, and to make my way down to the casting call for interviews, footage, etc to help promote the effort, and to show the fam at THISIS50 that Relentless is that “next nigga” when it comes to presenting hot shit for the site. At the door to the studios where the casting call took place, a guy was positioned to tell everyone, “NO GUYS ALLOWED.” And, of course, that ain’t have a damned thing to do with a nigga like me. However, this is the part that made all the difference between getting in the door, and not getting in the door—A friend of mine (check my top friends on Myspace) named John Jesses does a lot of videos for 50 Cent. In fact, we had a number of discussions on some work we’d (one day) be doing together. We had these discussions as recent as a week earlier. However, my ASSUMPTION was that this was a Jesses casting. And since he had implied to “come on down” to one of his future video shoots (already went to a previous one), appearing unannounced wouldn’t be an issue. So, I tell the “doorman” (aka, the “blocker”) that I’m a friend of Jesses. “Did he get here yet?” I asked.“Yeah. He just went up,” he replies. I immediately accept the invitation because the guy opens the door wide to let me in. I’m in the door, about to meet some of the finest women to ever grace your B.E.T./106 & Park-screen. Bingo.When I get upstairs, I realize the power of what is happening. It’s the G-Unit Machine at work, women all prettied-up, asses everywhere, making me wonder how they got all that in them jeans. And there are a few fellas around who I chop it up with, including the administrators of the casting. (TNT Casting) It took about 20 minutes for me to be introduced to “Jesse,” who I immediately realized was not “Jesses.” I later learned that this was the Jesse Terrero, part one (or two) of the brother-brother video production team. They’ve produced mad videos, as well as Jesse directed the film SOUL PLANE.Well, considering that I was just passing through this casting, and not planning on staying long (I had a video shoot myself scheduled in Queens an hour later). So, I figured, lemme make the best out of this. And I introduced myself to Jesse: “I’m Relentless Aaron, I write books, I’m one of the G-Unit authors with one project (with Fitty) in stores now. I’m also producing content for THISIS50.COM” I told him, specifically and truthfully. Well, taking his expression as evidence, this sounded good enough for Jesse to let me deeper into the casting. Meanwhile, I noticed some conversations going back and forth about me. My spidey-senses were telling me that they had some doubt. Afterall, I’m not the highly publicized brand that, say, TIDE detergent is. I’m not even as big as ALLSTATE or FEDEX. But, indeed I am a known brand in a lot of circles. Read into my many blogs and you will see I teach about branding. It takes time and strategy-squared to earn that type of acknowledgement and credibility. Therefore, a writer fresh out of prison has got a long way to go; feel me? The billions of impressions I’ve earned to d
ate don’t even compare to the hundreds of trillions of mentions that Def jam and Sony and even the State of New York have branded in the world’s view. So, the point is, I stay in my f’kn lane. I figure I’d do this interview, capture some footage, and I’d be off and running for my video shoot in Queens (coincidentally, 50 Cent’s stomping ground). Well, that’s not quite how things went down. I don’t know if you’ve seen the video (whatever I was able to create); but look at it and you will see I had the start of something. But, if you know content like I know content, this was a waste of fucking time. If only I had crossed my T’s and dotted my I’s before hand and got the correct info about the video director so that I could’ve done something more productive with my damned afternoon. Not to mention, I gotta hear some backwards shit from Violator Management and G-Unit (respectively) that there was a complaint about my presence at the shoot. COMPLAINT!? WTF!? I go out of my way to be the journalist and to promote (because that’s what the fuck I do) and this is the love I get? COMPLAINTS? I got an ear-full of BS, about how I went to this video shoot to “steal their girls.” Jesus-fucking-christ. Really. No disrespect, but I was fingering coochie way before the Terreros were juggling baby bottles. Way before 50 Cent became a dime. Really!? My history reads like a fuckin black Hugh Hef, and I’ve tamed myself (okay, maybe somewhat tamed myself) simply because I wanna be able to go into schools and share my world with the teenagers, the most endangered in our cluttered communities. Steal women? Somebody, somewhere OBVIOUSLY didn’t know how I get down. And women is the LAST thing I lack. Really.
Now, if I’ve disrespected anyone in this rant, please don’t feel any type of way. At the end of the day, I’m a professional, real fucking good at what the fuck I do. And I give respect just like I get it. So, I say all that to say, Jesse and his brother & I got a chance to chop it up a little last night. Finally. Exhale. Now, there’s still a slight discrepancy about my supposedly saying “50 Cent sent me, or “THISIS50.COM sent me,” and my argument is that such is nowhere near the case. But, you know, we’re human beings and human beings do and say and feel human-being shit. Period. So, while that hung in the air over us, Jesse and Ulysses patted me on the shoulders, they posed for my pics, and they assured me that all was cool. Uhh, NO! I am movie magic waiting to happen brothers. We will see one another again and again, and we all need to recognize what’s really real. Meanwhile, aside from the Terrero brothers, DJ Mad Linx was in the house. And of course, I’d be a fool to not mention the World Famous Kid Capri who stopped by.
You know I had to summarize the last 15 years of my life for him, and he gave me the I’m proud of you buddy hug and his number for future projects. Kid Capri is my nigga way before the figgas, if you feel me. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the pics at http://www.myspace.com/relentlessaaron
And there’s always new video at http://www.youtube.com/relentless
Oh yeah: the moral to this story? Relentless Aaron must get his weight up! Word!
Russell Simmons speaks on Relentless Aaron:
“He’s a big, dope, large-ass producer. He blew up. I met him in the ghetto. We were in the ghetto together, and now he blew up.”