Milford Boil - Paper Cuts

 Yep. Paper cuts. Milford Boil continues to get creative over every day happenstances. Granted, paper cuts are a real annoyance, and for no bigger than they tend to be, surely get sore. Big And Tall Records likes to keep our fans informed, so if you ever wondered about paper cuts, a quick googling gives these results:

• Nerve endings: The fingertips have many pain receptors, making them more sensitive to touch and pain.  
• Serrated edges: Paper edges are jagged, similar to a saw, and can rip and tear skin. 
• Chemical irritation: Paper is treated with chemicals that can irritate the skin. 
• Exposed nerves: Paper cuts are usually shallow and don't bleed much, leaving nerves exposed. 
• Damaged tissues: Paper cuts can leave damaged tissues and neurons exposed. 
• Wound flexes: Using your hands can flex the wound open, disturbing the neurons.  

 While the subjects stay offbeat, the music is flowing more and more into heavy rock. But Milford can be just as unpredictable in his music style as in his subject matter. The song does reveal something we never knew; that Milford enjoys a good sense of job security because his father is his boss's boss. We knew Milford did some sort of research and that he's very good at what he does, but it sure doesn't hurt to have your Dad as the head man! 

We've got an office pool going as to what Milford's next subject will be. Nobody won the last pool, so the money rolls over into the new one. I'd share what subjects are in the pool, but we'd rather keep it a surprise.

I was sorting through some paperwork 

As I most always do. 

When I noticed a pain on the pad 

of my index finger! 

A stabbing, burning pain! 

What did I do? Snag a paperclip? 

Get hung up on a staple? Now what? 

That’s my main sorting finger! I’m disabled! 

I can’t finish what I was doing!…….. 

 

Cooler heads prevailed. 

I calmed down a little, examined my finger, 

Expected to see a bloody, mess….but NOTHING! 

Not a sign of blood! No sign of redness! What the hell? 

I inspected more closely…and found a…. PAPER CUT! 

 

Some might say it’s superficial 

Because there’s no blood. 

But the pain is not artificial! 

 

PAPER CUTS! a hazard of my job! 

They hurt and they burn, and then begin to throb! 

 

There’s a box of finger rubbers 

Off to the side, on top my table. 

Like the things used by lovers 

To make love without fear they're able. 

 Only these little condoms 

Give the fingers much protection

 From the irritating symptoms

 Of the skin /paper confrontation! 

 

 PAPER CUTS! a hazard of my job! 

They hurt and they burn, and then begin to throb! 

 

They come in many colors, 

To help prevent the stings, 

But I’ve got my druthers, 

About using the ugly things. 

They come smooth or rippled, 

Like the bigger ones do, 

Wavy, crazy dimples. 

Fluorescent colors too! 

 

PAPER CUTS! a hazard of my job! 

They hurt and they burn, and then begin to throb! 

 

 My boss here’s me crying, 

And comes running in my door. 

“Why do I keep buying 'em? 

Use them what they’re for!” 

“You’re doing this all the time,

 You’re not that big of a dumb ass! 

Or do I have to spend the dime 

And send you back to class!” 

But I hate to use them! 

I tell him to his face. 

“So you can just shove ‘em

 In your rear end place!”

 He gets mad, his face turns red, 

I know he wants to fire me. 

He turns around and leaves instead.

 My father’s his boss, you see! 

 

PAPER CUTS! a hazard of my profession! 

But to wear the finger things make me sick!

 For when I wear them in profusion,

 MY FINGERS LOOK LIKE LITTLE DICKS!

 HURT!!......BURN!! ................PAIN!!

Milford Boil - Atomic Farts

Milford Boil

Our resident demon plagued artist is back with his latest excursion into disgusting workings of his body. This time he bemoans a case of excessive, odorous, flatulence. Or to put it more crudely, Atomic Farts. Milford has the uncanny knack of putting his personal experience and observation into song, and in this one he questions what could e the cause of his flatulence, something he ate? The broccoli, hard boiled eggs, pizza? Really, Milford? 

The music is hard driving, possibly representing the steady progress of intestinal gas careening through his bowels until it exits with a flourish. Milford has deemed it valuable to add appropriate sound effects to the music as well, some of which he supposedly are his real farts he recorded during the episode. The visual we have of the positions he had to get in to capture these rumblings for posterity are not pretty...

It started one night, early into the morning. 

A funny feeling in my gut woke me up. 

I lay there tossing and turning, 

And wondered what was going on, what was up? 

 

 I rolled over on my side, had an urge to lift my leg, 

I really don't know why. 

It was then that it started, rumblings coming forth, 

It stunk so bad it made me cry! 

 

 Atomic farts, coming out of me! 

What brought it on, was a mystery.

 Loud and raucous long lasting as well, 

and then....the horrid.....SMELL!!!!! 

 

Spent the rest of the night in a fitful sleep, 

Rolling, tossing turning, restless. 

Just as I would start to drift in slumber deep, 

It'd start again, terrible and relentless! 

 

Atomic farts, coming out of my ass! 

Toxic waves of putrid, musty gas! 

I tried to keep in my gut, try to inner hold, 

But the powerful fart came forth bold! 

 

I took some pepto doses, to try and control it, 

But the taste of it almost make me sick! 

Wished I could just get up and take a shit, 

Maybe get it out my system real quick. 

 

After an hour or so, I felt the urge, 

To go in a do a powerful purge. 

Would the farts stop when I get all cleaned out, 

Or would it only lead to a second bout?

 

 Sat down on the crapper, started to read a book. 

The farts were so strong, the commode shook! 

I felt the release of lots of fecality, 

And hoped it would lead to peace for me! 

 

But a half hour later it started again! 

The rumbling, twisting, asshole gaping, 

So nasty and smelly, it made my head spin! 

Was horrible! I really wasn't faking! 

 

WHAT CAUSED IT? 

WAS IT SOMETHING I ATE? 

THE BROCCOLI? 

HARD BOILED EGGS, 

PIZZA? WHAT?

Milford Boil - Hemorrhoids!

Milford Boil

 We were sitting around our conference table when this latest recording from Milford Boil came in. Someone offered up the thought that it would be a good thing if Milford's next offering would be of a more uplifting nature. The associate that champions Boil's artistry pish-poshed that idea as being very misunderstanding of Milford's take of the world. As we talked it over, we decided he was right. Milford Boil has been called our resident dramatic paranoid artist, and he will stay as that!

He has his own perspective on things. Always his subjects are of a highly personal nature that deal with
himself. Perhaps selfishly, perhaps on the verge of narcissism,  his declamation of his words are the point. His music itself only serves to emphasize personal feelings of the words. His songs to date have dealt with things most of us have had to deal with in our lives. That he is over dramatic adds to the richness of his experiences, and makes his all the more relevant. 

Some are looking forward to his next song, some are dreading the subject of it. What next? We will find out. Milford continues to live his life full of experiences just waiting to be brought forth in his music! 

I was in bed and I rolled on my back… DAMN! 

A pain…felt in my…ASS? 

 

Got up, thought I had to take a dump, 

Strained and grunted and groaned. 

Went to wipe after wards, all bloody, 

Oh man, OH MAN! IT MADE ME MOAN!!! 

 

 A pain in my asshole, 

Gave me a fit! 

A pain in my asshole, 

Every time I shit! 

 

 Started hurting more, a deep throbbing 

Especially upon wiping. 

What the hell was going on?

 Might sound like I’m hyping, 

 

But it was a pain in my asshole! Worse all the while! 

A real pain in my asshole! Did not make me smile! 

 

 Went out for Mexican food, 

Really liked the meal. 

Hot peppers and salsa, 

Later intense pain sealed the deal! 

 

 Something’s wrong with my asshole! 

I inspected myself, I’m not dumb! 

I felt around with my fingers, 

Felt like something hanging out my ass…like a thumb! 

 

Hard and swollen, Sensitive as hell. 

Each time I touched it, It made me really YELL! OWWWW!! 

 

So I went to the doctor, 

After about two weeks.

I took off my clothes, 

Doctor told me spread my cheeks… 

 

 A damned hemorrhoid! 

And what made it worse! 

It was thrombosed and red, 

The treatment course, 

 

Was to lay on the table, left side, 

Treatment he told me real slow, 

As his nurse held my ass cheek spread, 

First thing is a shot right in the asshole! 

 

 HUH???? OH MY GOD!!!! THE PAIN….SO INTENSE!!

 He told me, It’s a blood clot, real simple. 

I’ll just nick it with a knife, 

SQUEEZE IT OUT LIKE A PIMPLE!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! 

 

I woke up in the emergency room. 

Half a mile of gauze shoved up my ass. 

The surgery was successful, 

The clot was all passed. 

 

Nurses stood all around, 

I felt nauseous and woozy. 

Everything was spinning, 

Like a bad horror movie. 

 

A simple office procedure, they said. 

But you had a bad reaction. 

Screamed, passed out, bled all over! 

But the doctor took the proper action. 

 

Now I can’t sit down…my ass still hurts! 

My asshole will never be the same! 

I cringe at the thought of shitting! 

'Perfect asshole' will never be my name! 

 

WHY DO ALL THESE THINGS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

 

The Doctor told me later, that it could.....come back.....COME BACK!!.....COME BACKKKKKKKKK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! 

 

 

 

Milford Boil Sings - Skid Marks

 The resident paranoid nut-case of Big And Tall Records strikes again! This time, the object of his maniacal rants are aimed at those pesky remnants that sometimes gets left in our underwear...skidmarks! Granted, it can be annoying and embarrassing, but that's what laundry's for. 

In any event, he goes to dramatic lengths to express his revulsion. What new 'problem' will he come up with next? No way, we're not even going to speculate! 

Milford Boil

Laundry day, I dread it, because of my fetid, dirty tightey whiteys, 

It’s only on certain places, like there’s been speed races, 

going on there. I’ve tried to not do it. 

But I cannot eschew it. To my dread and fear!

 

 Skid marks lurking right there, grossing out my underwear!

 Tearing my heart out every time! Like a little tiny burnouts, 

no matter how it turns out, it’s…..always the same.

 

 My friends say, what do you care anyway, you’re the only one that sees. 

They say we all do it sometime, our undies are never sublime to see. 

 I know their words mean well, but I’m still in this place of hell when I load them into the washer! 

 

Skid marks, taunting me, never will let me be

 secure got yellow marks in the front, brown ones in the rear, 

I live in continual dread and fear, cuz they never wash out!

 

 Scrub ‘em, soak ‘em, bleach ‘em, everything short of burn ‘em, 

and the traces remain. Perfectly good unders, ruined! Ruined!RUINED!!AAAAAAAAAH! 

 

My therapist asked me, “What is the purpose of wearing underwear?” 

I could not answer, it’s one of those things I’ve always done. 

“Underwear acts as a barrier between our outer clothing and our bodily functions,to a certain extent,’ he said ‘Things do happen, and underwear is our first defense for the possible shame and embarrassment of our bodily functions being brought out in public. Such is human nature.' But why do we have skid marks? I asked him. 'Because we’re human,' he said. Then there’s no hope, no hope, NO HOPE! 

 

Skid marks, taunting me, never will let me be secure, 

got yellow marks in the front, brown ones in the rear,

I live in continual dread and fear, cuz they never wash out! 

 

 Friends suggest I go commando, and although the thought is intriguing, 

The skid marks would not go, they’d take residence in my expensive blue jeans instead!

 And they wouldn’t wash out there either! AND JEANS ARE EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE THAN TIGHTEY WHITEYS,AND THE TIGHTEY WHITEYS AREN’T CHEAP! CHEAP! CHEEEEEAP!

 

Skid marks, taunting me, never will let me be secure, got yellow marks in the front, brown ones in the rear, I live in continual dread and fear, cuz they never wash out! Scrub ‘em, soak ‘em, bleach ‘em, everything short of burn ‘em,and the traces remain. Perfectly good unders, ruined! Ruined!RUINED!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

Milford Boil - The Demon That Lived On My Face!

Milford Boil is a strange man. Outwardly he appears calm and cool, collected most of the time. But inside is an artist that squeezes every ounce of possible emotion from any situation, no matter how mundane it may seem. His music can be highly emotional, horrific, highly paranoic He is a very tense, oversensitive artist that is quite difficult to record. This song is the first from an intended album, but he put so much into this single effort, that his physical well being was threatened. We at Big and Tall Records hold our collective breath for him to recover and wish him the best during his recuperation! Until then, enjoy this dramatic reading about a zit on his face! 

It was there lookin' mean and greasy, 

'bout the size of a Roosevelt dime. 

I tried to squeeze it time after time, 

Milford Boil In A Calm Moment

But it always made me feel queasy. 

There was a hair sticking out of it too, 

And my skin was all red and lumpy, 

my skin was even more bumpy 

as I squeezed ‘til I turned blue. 

It kept defeating me at each turn, 

No matter what I’d do! 

Someone help me get through, 

As my stomach is starting to churn. 

 

It was the blackhead of Satan himself! 

But I took the mirror from the shelf, 

Held it close so I could learn 

How to squeeze it out myself! 

I pushed and I pushed, 

til my thumb tips turned white! 

It was a horrible demon, and put up a terrible fight! 

But I saw the black crust arise from the must of the pus 

that was being held back. 

The pressure was great, no more to wait, 

as the core came shooting out fast. 

It hit the mirror hard, 

and broke a big shard out of the glass! 

The green and pink goo ran down my face 

til it made my belly more queasy. 

But I conquered the beast, 

and it began to release 

all the gunk that didn’t come easy. 

 

I kept up the pressure, until I was 

real sure that the goddamed thing was all empty! 

I got out all the blackhead from hell, 

what a story to tell! 

About the demon that lived on my face!