Reading the Comey memos this morning. Notice that they were no sooner handed over to Congress than they were leaked. So much for that whole pesky law and order idea that evidence from an ongoing investigation should not be handed over to Congress.

On page 3 the memo of the dinner for two begins. Comey reports that he had a chance to chat with the two servers before Trump got there, and that they were both retired Navy submariners and the three of them “had a fun discussion about height clearance in submarines.”

The conversation, which was pleasant at all times, was chaotic, with topics touched, left, then returned to later, making it very difficult to recount in a linear fashion.

I bet. That’s the Trump we’ve come to know and to loathe more than we did before in the happy days when we knew little of him and cared less. He’s a very prolific talker, but a very bad one: he just takes off, as if he were in a competition for “how long can you keep talking?” He babbles. He makes you wish language had never been invented to be abused by a goon like him.

The president spoke an overwhelming majority of the time.

Sums.it.up.

Trump asked, “So what do you want to do?” They talked about Comey’s job in detail.

There was no acknowledgement by him (or me) that we had already talked about this twice.

With a babbler like Trump it can be hard to tell if that’s just more babbling or early Alzheimer’s. Or both.

Trump says Obama and Holder were close, and Comey agrees and then says that’s a thing presidents keep getting wrong – they think because problems come from the Justice Department that it’s a good idea to “try to bring Justice close” when in fact it’s a very bad idea. He cited Mitchell, Meese, Gonzales, and Trump added Bobby Kennedy.

Then there’s a startling bit, with names redacted, where Trump tells Comey he (Trump) doubts Flynn’s judgement. Oh, really, sir?