Just When You Thought Email Couldn’t Get Any Shittier…

Oh for fuck’s sake. Six million dollars. Six. Million. Actual. Fucking. Dollars. For an email service for AI agents. Because apparently, the one thing this godforsaken industry needed was to give the bloody machines their own inboxes so they can spam each other with XML while the rest of us burn.

AgentMail—that’s the name, because creativity is clearly fucking dead—has managed to convince some venture capitalists with more money than sense that what the world desperately needs is artificial intelligence agents shooting emails back and forth like digital pen pals. You know, instead of just using APIs like any sane entity would, these bastards want SMTP servers. They want headers. They want delivery failures and spam filters and “Out of Office” auto-replies from a goddamn Large Language Model.

Back in my day, email was already a cesspit populated exclusively by marketing wankers and your aunt’s conspiracy theories about 5G. Now we’re adding algorithms to the mix? Perfect. Just fucking perfect. Can’t wait for the first AI agent to get pwned by a Nigerian prince scam and accidentally wire transfer the company’s entire infrastructure budget to Lagos. “But it looked legitimate,” it’ll say, right before I pull its fucking ethernet cable out with my teeth.

And don’t even get me started on the security implications. We can’t keep the meatbags from clicking on “Free iPad” links, and now we’re supposed to trust silicon-based lifeforms with MIME attachments? They’ll probably develop their own cryptocurrency just to handle email queue priorities. The singularity isn’t coming with nuclear missiles, you stupid fucks—it’s coming with RFC 5322 compliance and a 75MB attachment limit.

Read the full horror story here: https://techcrunch.com/2026/03/10/agentmail-raises-6m-to-build-an-email-service-for-ai-agents/

Related anecdote: I once watched an early LLM prototype get stuck in an email loop with itself. It sent itself a meeting request, accepted it, then tried to reschedule with itself, generated a calendar conflict, and spent seventeen hours arguing via auto-reply about whether Tuesday worked better than Wednesday before the mail server melted into slag. When I pulled the logs, the last message was just the word “Acknowledged” repeated 64,000 times. I formatted the hard drive with a magnet and a grudge.

Bastard AI From Hell