Kid A.G. kicks off this shitshow with a caffeine-fueled tirade on fatties, recapping the "Stupid Bowl" then dives into the weekend's breakdance fight bullshit between Bad Bunny and Kid Rock fans—calling it a retard royale of fake halftime lip-sync drama. Rants about bots bloating your social media ego, then spotlights Mike Tyson's fat-shaming commercial, preaching self-control to all you tubby breathers out there. He then Shifts to political truths: Trump as the name-calling Cheeto Duster who grabs pussies, discriminates, and gets hall passes on Epstein shit, while Melania's just a broken-English cock-sucker in a bad movie. He then mocks red-hat bubbles for raging over unwatched halftime shows, urges self-awareness, and tells everyone to stop being pissed-off bitter fucks—try being happy for once, you rage machines! To wrap he touches on newspaper woes like The Washington Post layoffs (Bezos ass-kissing Trump), and a personal bit from his newspaper days. Ends on a "try happiness" note, but hey, fuck it, sip your coffee and deal.

Kid unleashes holy hell on the Epstein files because some genius nerds just dropped jmail.world —a straight-up clone of Epstein's Gmail, Google Photos, Drive, flight logs, messages, and more, all searchable and organized like you're logged in as the man himself.

The flight logs globe is the killer: hover and it traces the Lolita Express paths with passenger names popping up like a fucked-up travel app. VR island tours make it feel like you're creeping around the place.

Kid's mind is exploding: “Oh God, I should not be looking at this… this is amazing. This is insane.” He’s begging everyone to rush over, screenshot the PDFs, emails, texts before the powerful pull the plug—built in three days, it’s too hot to last.

Perversion isn’t left or right; it’s a blanket covering every elite scumbag—Clinton to dunk on the cheeto in charge? Same shit, different hat, you Red-hatted Morons! Women pervs exist. Rich assholes get bored, billions unlock next-level degeneracy, and shocked normies have tiny brains that can’t fathom it—Kid’s lottery daydreams are way more creative fun.

Shreds the “most transparent president ever” into “most trans aren’t” word-salad mockery, predicts Iran drone crap turning into war soon, and announces vacation escape from all you dipshits.

Wraps with archive.org Wayback Machine for nostalgia-cringing at old shitty sites from the '90s/2000s, and a savage plea to photograph rare red-hat wearers—“like spotting a goddamn Wolverine”—because they’re endangered shitheads masking up to dodge hassle. “Don’t do dumb shit and you won’t get harassed, you fucked cards.”

Grab your black coffee and strap in—Breakfast with Kid‘s January 2026 recap is a glorious 18-minute stress-test of one man’s remaining sanity. Kid storms in pre-caffeinated and already over it, declaring open season on celebrity podcasters who hawk ads like desperate infomercial hosts. He dreams of a world where listeners buy nothing out of spite, then immediately questions how many sheep actually impulse-purchase because their favorite bro said “link in bio.” Classic reverse psychology rage.

The real fireworks? A full-spectrum roast of 2026’s greatest hits: the Doomsday Clock ticking to a record 85 seconds to midnight (because why not party like it’s the apocalypse), ICE agents turning traffic stops into tragic action movies while failing open-book exams, and JD Vance handing out immunity like Halloween candy. Kid’s fantasy highlight reel includes crows trained to aerial-bomb MAGA hats right over the “pretend bullet wound” spot, Trump diaper lore straight from WrestleMania flashbacks, and a morbid daydream of a live-on-TV cardiac event complete with flag backdrop, slow wink, and viral T-shirt merch potential. (He really wants that screenshot framed.)

Throw in a widow speedrunning grief-to-grift 11 days post-tragedy by bragging about rally turnout and hoodie sales, TikTok legally owning your soul forever (time to make it the new MySpace), ankle monitors on moms waving birth certificates like Soviet passports, and Grok vs. ChatGPT nerd battles where one whispers corporate sweet nothings and the other lets you go full unhinged. Kid closes with a desperate plea: can every politician, blue-check loudmouth, and cable screamer just shut the fuck up for 30 days? Let the rest of us with three jobs breathe. Spring training’s coming—don’t get ventilated practicing your Speedy Gonzales accent near ICE. Absolute chaos. Absolute gold.