A love letter lost in the mail, forgotten, miss delivered and then discovered years later and received by the intended is romantic. A love letter ending up in someone’s spam filter is just annoying.

I get mail; therefore I am.

You know something is wrong when the government declares opening someone else’s mail is a felony but your internet activity is fair game for data collecting.

I had a dream about you. My brain was plugged directly into the internet, and people in Russia were streaming my dreams. Edward Snowden was there, and he was eating popcorn that I’d mailed him.

To write is human, to receive a letter: Devine!

Several famous people have licked my nipples. Well, indirectly. First they licked the stamps, and then I peeled them off the letters and stuck them on my nipples.

When I sing, it sounds like I’m gargling spaghetti. Is it any wonder that women lust after me and mail me their panties? (Mail to: Jarod Kintz/12358 Fibonacci Way/Jacksonville, Fl 32258)

I could open my mail, but isn’t the mystery more fun? So you see, I’m not disorganized after all. I’m a romantic.

I lick each envelope I mail, so I can taste the closure and anticipation of travel. If they tasted like ice cream, they’d match the love letters inside.

The question is, If I killed your husband, would you seek revenge, or would you send me a Thank You card? I think I know the answer, so here is my address: Jarod Kintz 12321...

I once met a man who couldn’t think outside of the box. So one day, while he was thinking, I taped the box shut and mailed him to Maine. UPS reported that the box was...

The six squares of our love didn’t add up to a cube. Still, I took the oddly-shaped box down to the post office and tried to mail it into the future, when I’d be more...

Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.

I wanted to make her a greeting card, but as far as I got was folding the paper in half. I left it blank inside, so she’d know how much I love her. I never...

It took him almost a half hour to write a message of only five lines. It took yet another fifteen minutes to delete whatever might be construed as ambiguity, desperation, or references to a history...

I want to mail my mailman something. He always brings me mail, yet I never give him any mail. Maybe he will appreciate the thought, or maybe he will feel I am making more work...

The door opened. She looked in the mirror and suppressed a curse. Slipping in behind some tourists, that winged shadow was back again. Karou rose and made for the bathroom, where she took the note...

I wish every envelope enclosed a love letter. It’s this hope that leads me to open strangers’ mail. So you see, I’m a romantic, not an NSA employee.

I write letters to you that you’ll never see.

A man with nobody to love is like a stamped envelope with no address.

I am not overlooking any mail. I’m looking at all of it. I even wrote back to the Viagra people.

Actual message in letter I mailed: Congrats on getting married! Here’s a hundred-dollar gift certificate to Amazon.com. You could buy something practical, or you could buy 101 copies of my .99 cents ebook. Just kidding—I...

She never opened her mail in the middle of the day. Sometimes she forgot about it for a week or more until people rang to complain. Nor did she check her answering machine messages. In...

Today I found yet more evidence that I’m a lunatic. The proof came in a package in the mail. The sender? Myself. The evidence? Tampered with.