Dear Rob:

You say you need a personal assistant. Look no further. I’m your man.

I say “man” advisedly. I gather you’ve had some problems with female employees. I’m sorry you had to sue two of your nannies for lying about you. I can keep my mouth shut, though, especially when you’re offering a sweet “$70K a year, plus benefits,” according to TMZ. Hey, that beats the $0K I’ll be making when the last newspaper rolls off the presses, which, based on current trends, is due to happen by about next Tuesday.

But the job listing you posted, according to TMZ, was pretty strange. OK, cool, your team denied it was you who put out the ad, ilbet but we all know it was just endearingly strange enough to be you.

I have to ask: 25 pounds of what? I mean, you say on your post, “Never assume anything.” So when you say your personal gofer/butler/manservant/bodyguard must be able to lift up to 25 pounds, I won’t assume you mean 25 pounds of groceries or dog food.

See, ever since you played Sodapop in “The Outsiders” and self-destructive Billy in “St. Elmo’s Fire,” and all the way through your roles on “The West Wing” and “Parks and Recreation,” there’s always been something slightly smirky and off about you, like you came from a planet where nobody lives past high school and you can’t quite get over how wrinkly Earth people are. So, when you say 25 pounds, are we talking 25 pounds of weird? If you want me to regularly pick up 25 pounds of rotting coyotes you killed from your back porch with a slingshot while drinking wine spritzers, I’m gonna need more than $70K. That goes double if we’re talking about 25 pounds of cocaine and I’m supposed to “lift up” the stuff in a dank basement in Colombia.

If you want me to regularly pick up 25 pounds of rotting coyotes you killed from your back porch with a slingshot while drinking wine spritzers, I’m gonna need more than $70K.

And what if we’re talking about my picking up 25 pounds of fat that your lipo guy took off your midsection, which you now want me to bring home so you can store it in your fridge because you think it’d be cute to fry the shrimp in it when Emilio Estevez and Judd Nelson are coming over?

Actually, that sounds pretty funny. I’m game.

Fine, you want me to alert “estate staff” if you say you need the Jacuzzi warmed up before you get home. Easy. But I still have some other questions. “Schedule haircuts every episode.” Every weekly episode of that doctor show you’re doing for CBS? You need a haircut? Every week? Also, you say I’m supposed to “ensure” the client is “fed and has coffee throughout the day”? Note that you didn’t say I’m supposed to “make light meals upon request” or “serve coffee on request.” I’m supposed to “ensure” you are eating and putting coffee in your body. All the time. Am I supposed to keep asking you if you’re hungry or undercaffeinated? Rob, you’re paying me to nag you. Do you have mommy issues? I’m getting a weird vibe that what you’re not saying in the ad is that you want me to wear a dress like the one Anthony Perkins wore in “Psycho” and refer to you as “Robbie-poo.”

So maybe the denial your rep gave to TMZ was accurate after all. “Rob Lowe” didn’t post an ad for a personal assistant. I’m thinking the guy who posted that ad was somebody else: “Super Creepy Rob Lowe.”

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