Lingerie and … football?

So, I don’t know HOW it came to this, but somehow I became affiliated with the Lingerie Football League. My affiliation does not mean that:

a). I have transformed into a sexy athlete who wishes to discover her “primate” side by joining the “Atlantic Steam” or the “San Diego Seduction” and prancing around and wrestling other women while we’re all clad in ruffles that cover an extremely minute proportion of the body as sparsely as authentic meat in a McDonald’s hamburger.

b). I will watch women prancing around and tackling other women while they’re clad in ruffles that cover an extremely minute proportion of the body as sparsely as authentic meat in a McDonald’s hamburger.

c). I will market the image of women while they’re clad in ruffles that cover an extremely minute proportion of the body as sparsely as authentic meat in a McDonald’s hamburger to the begging, hornthirsty hormones of the male species.

So one of these could potentially become a lie. Which one is it?

If a movie were to be made about this, it could be entitled: A League of Their Own 2: Postfeminist Panty Pride.