I’m not going to hide my fuckin’ light under a bushel anymore, folks – I got mad skilz in the kitchen and over the grill. Especially when it comes to making man meals for men. I’m talking lamb chops so rare they bleat when you poke ‘em with a fork, and fish grilled in the skin, with one baked eye staring up at you in despair as you go nom nom nom on its innards.

I was thinkin’ about scrapping this fiction bullshit and writing a cookbook, but then when the publishing world pissed themselves laughing and told me to get a real job, I remembered the blog and figured it would just be easier to post my recipes here.

So here’s the recipe for The Roswell Invader, so named ’cause it looks like a UFO, and if you cook it right it squirts alien death juice down your face when you bite into it. Also every Invader carries a crew of two alien meat-slivers, hell bent on ruling the world, or at least your lower intestinal tract. Put a grease-slicked smile on a child’s face, and cook this one for your kids next time you’re in charge of breakfast. Check it out – after the jump:

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