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July 05, 2007 Your roosters go off all day and night! Did you know that they're making me a zombie? Sleep deprivation is cruel and unusual punishment, brah. Hate to break it to you, but you aren't the only one living on this island. Obviously your roosters' constant squawking is something you've grown used to; perhaps even enjoy. Though I've tried—believe me, I've tried—I can't. Funny thing is that when your dogs bark, I can deal with that since they may very well be protecting you. But the caged, underfed, filthy roosters seems to have no other purpose than to mess with my sleep. Often I reject a midnight bathroom run out of fear that your pets will think the bathroom light is the approaching dawn. In fact, things are so bad that I refrain from inviting family and friends to visit me—there's no paradise where I live. I'm at my wit's end: I've talked to you about this, but all do you do is nod your head and stare blankly into space. Guess my next move will be to call the police and the Humane Society. Cock a Doodle Do!
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