Feeling guilty about killing a plant? Play this video and feel better right away!

Yep, it's me! That's actually the way I look and sound. Now you know why my wife puts in her ear plugs and watches Netflix on her computer as soon as I walk in the door.

This video was actually shot as part of a bigger video to introduce Southern Living's new look that begins with the October issue. I'll post a link to that at the end of this. For that video, I talked for about an hour and they cut me to about 5 seconds. I guess that's all of me America can take.

You'll see a number of our other editors all dolled up and talking about the new look and content for their particular sections of Southern Living. Actually, getting made up for this was the most fun part. I mean, I'd almost forgotten how to put on mascara (those Alice Cooper concerts from high school still haunt me).

To prepare for my big moment, I go downstairs to the studio where they'll be filming us and get immediately introduced to this pretty, young makeup artist who's going to make me look presentable. She takes one look at me and asks, "Would you like some bangs?"

I think: "Like with a paddle? OK. I have been rather naughty lately."

But she's talking about my hair. So she puts some goop on it, fiddles around, and all of a sudden, I have bangs. Cool.

Next, she has to work on my face. That's like taming Andy Rooney's eyebrows. "I just need to even out your skin tones," she says.

"I have more than one skin tone?" I think. "It doesn't say that on my driver's license."

So she smears all this flesh-colored slush on my face that I suppose is actually made from real flesh (is that safe?). Then she brushes powder all over my forehead, nose, and cheeks to create the illusion that I'm either alive or dead. Don't know which.

Finally, she turns to my gorgeous blue eyes that take on this strange reddish cast every morning. She carefully traces eyeliner on the edges of my eyelids. "Whatever you do, don't look down," she says as she works. A tarantula must be crawling up my leg. She then  foofs this black stuff up and down on my eyelashes. Satisfied, she announces, "Now your eyes actually show up."

No wonder they called me "Squinty" as a kid.

Now I'm ready for my debut on camera. I sit down on a wooden stool, gaze at the camera, and try not to let on that the lights are searing my retinas. But the director quickly spots this. "Can you take off your glasses?" he asks. "They're reflecting into the camera."

I obsequiously obey.

Ever hear the expression "working blind?" Well, from that moment on, that was me. The camera, the director, and even the set were just a blur. I bet this is how Britney Spears sees the world every day.

So play the video, watch me blinking wildly as I try to focus on not only what I'm talking about, but where-the-hell-I-am. Then click on this link and see how many seconds they gave me on the official Southern Living video: Our New Look.