Well, he ended up getting hired by the other paper in town, a much lower-rent weekly. And of course he ends up at a lot of the same events we do, so the stream of wacky JP stories has continued steadily. A couple of months ago, he showed up at a hostage standoff in his rented U-Haul van that he was using to get around in because his car died and he didn't have the credit to rent a car. And damned if that crazy fuck didn't jump on the van and start taking photos of the house, which had to be 100 yards away and entirely beyond the reach of his lens.
Today we were both covering a gas plant explosion. At first we were hanging out at a roadblock two miles from the plant, and JP was saying, "Man, you guys smell that? I could smell the petroleum coke when I got out of the car." I looked over at his new Corolla. "JP, man, that was coming from that dumpster you're parked next to." "No way," he said, and went over to the dumpster and stuck his nose right in it through a crack in the door. Then he went to a puddle of stagnant water, knelt down, and smelled it. Returned to the dumpster.
"Yeah, it is the dumpster," he admitted sheepishly.