Who is tito ortiz currently dating

Most people, even self-important stars blowing thousands on bottle-shape women, might have simmered down about now.

But the 23-year-old Aaron Hernandez wasn’t like most people; for ages, he hadn’t even been like himself.

The sweet, goofy kid from Bristol, Connecticut, with the klieg-light smile and ex-thug dad who’d turned his life around to raise two phenom sons – Aaron Hernandez had barely been heard from in the seven hard years since his father was snatched away, killed in his prime by a medical error that left his boys soul-sick and lost.

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All night Friday, they’d kicked it at Rumor, popping bottles and pulling models up the steps of the VIP section of the Boston theater district’s hottest club.

“Shit was crazy,” Lloyd told friends the next day at his niece’s dance recital. We smoked that super-duper and Aaron dropped 10 G’s like it was nothing.

Making do without him, they got to Lloyd’s house at a.m., where a surveillance camera posted across the street showed Lloyd getting into the back seat of the Nissan.

It fast became clear to Lloyd, though, that this wouldn’t be a night of hot-sheet fun.

Sometime that night, he reached out to a couple of Bristol goons, Ernest Wallace and Carlos Ortiz – two stumble-bum crooks with long sheets of priors and no job or fixed address to lay their heads – and ordered them to take the two-hour drive to Boston on the double, telling one of them, .

According to family friends, Hernandez was using angel dust and was so paranoid he always carried a gun.Lloyd had already been up all weekend – he’d taken his friends clubbing Saturday night in Hernandez’s black Suburban.Hernandez wouldn’t hear it, though; he kept texting Lloyd. All weekend, Hernandez had been stewing in his 7,000-square-foot mansion 45 minutes outside Boston in North Attleborough, not far from Gillette Stadium, where the Patriots play, fixated on something that happened in the club two nights earlier.“I don’t like that nigger, he’s one of them funny people,” said the cousin.“Stop pointing, that’s my boy,” said Lloyd of Hernandez.There was such hunger in that kid for a father’s hand, and such greatness itching to get out, that coach after coach had covered for him whenever the bad Aaron showed – the violent, furious kid who was dangerous to all, most particularly, it seems, to his friends.

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