By Will Dabbs, MD
Guys and girls are different. Up until recently, that would have been a fairly uncontroversial statement—something akin to observing that the sky is blue or that politicians like money. However, curiously, that seems no longer to be the case.
I submit in evidence the recent tectonic challenges afflicting the woke overlords of the Women’s National Basketball Association. Heck, it has the word, “Women’s” in the name. You might think that would be unambiguous, only it’s not.
The Devil’s in the Details
I honestly could not care less who you sleep with. I’m just really sick of talking about it all the time. I prefer a world wherein folks are judged based upon what they accomplish rather than their sexual proclivities. Color me old-fashioned …
Anyway, the end result is that Enes Kanter Freedom and Royce White have both declared their eligibility for the 2027 WNBA draft. Freedom is si6x feet 10 inches tall. White is 6-8. Apparently they both figured they’d slip on wigs and go mop the floor with the WNBA. I’d pay proper money to watch that. I’m not only person on Planet Earth to feel that way.
As a public service, I’d like therefore to offer up an indisputable method for definitively determining the gender of any human being in the world. The results are completely reliable. All it takes is a dead cow and a gun.
The Test Setting
We live way out in the middle of no place. I have friends who live in big fancy houses in town. Good for them. If I can’t pee in my front yard I don’t much want to live there.
My drive in to town takes me across several modest bridges. This part of rural Mississippi is crisscrossed with small creeks and rivers. They gave Grant fits back in 1864.
One day my wife and I were heading in for church and I spied something incongruous off of one of these bridges. Intrigued, I stopped for a better look. There, trapped amidst a fallen treetop in the nearby curve of the creek, was a dead cow.
This cow had been dead a minute. It looked like an enormous hairy grape with its legs pointing out in four different directions. The ripening corpse was maybe 40 meters from the bridge and down in a ravine. Here’s where the test begins.
My wife saw this vile thing as well. Her immediate and instinctive response was to avert her gaze and say, “That’s gross.” By contrast, I was frankly mesmerized.
I had no interest in discomfiting my bride unduly, so we headed on to church. My wife and I spoke no further on the subject. However, my mental wheels were furiously churning.
The Confirmatory Test
By this point in the exercise, you should already have a pretty good idea whether you are a man or a woman simply by your visceral response to the sight of a dead, bloated cow. However, if you want to be completely certain, you move on to the confirmatory test. This stage of the assessment requires an operational submachine gun.
You never really know that you want to shoot a dead cow with a machine gun until the opportunity presents itself. It is most likely illegal to shoot off of a bridge in Mississippi. However, this happened 20 years ago. I’m sure there is some kind of statute of limitations. That and I know a lot of cops. Every last one of them, the male ones at least, would demand a little trigger time themselves.
This spot is incredibly remote. Nobody lives nearby, and the dead cow was down in the bottom of a deep ravine. It was the perfect spot.
The following day I packed my full auto MAC-10 submachine gun and a couple of loaded magazines in the truck alongside my lunchbox and laptop. I looked forward to quitting time all day long. On the way home I parked the truck and fetched the gun.
Results
In case you’re wondering, no, the cow didn’t explode. That was pretty disappointing. It didn’t really deflate, either. It did, however, make a simply ghastly mess. I wouldn’t want to have been close to it while the test was being administered. Over time, the poor dead cow succumbed to the elements and washed downstream.
In case there was ever any real ambiguity, it seems I’m actually a guy. I never told my wife that I machinegunned that dead cow. I trust you will keep the details to yourself. However, if the executives running the WNBA need to use my test, it is available free of charge. All you need is an automatic weapon and a demised bovine.
