Take that Atkins cook book and shove it. While you're at it, toss out those awkward, hyphenated euphemisms like "plus-sized” and "big-boned.” Toccara Elaine Jones has not only redefined big-girl beauty, she's redefined beauty, period. Since sassing her way onto Tyra Banks' top-rated flesh parade, America's Next Top Model, the head-turning Ohio native has extended her 15 minutes of fame by sweatin' out her perm on Celebrity Fit Club and bustin' out of lingerie shows around the country. Yes, her smile is disarming and her eyes could charm the toupee off of Donald Trump, but her celebrated twin peaks are what keep her ratings (and ours) rising. With March Madness upon us, the 24-year-old flirt wanted to celebrate her turn of the calendar with our readers in—what else?—her birthday suit. Don't bother making a wish—she's already granted it.

We remember an episode of ANTM where you were trying to squeeze your twins into a cocktail dress. How big are they?
I'm a G.

Good grief, woman! You went up from a DDD?
Well, I never knew my real bra size. Growing up I was always top heavy and my family was never able to buy me my real size 'cause they're more expensive. Six months ago, I was in Columbus, Ohio, in Nordstrom's and this lady suggested I try a G. I'm a big girl.

The Gs get a lot of the attention, but you've got a little bubble too.
People been talkin' about my booty now. That's a new experience for me.

My boys would call you a hat trick—three goals: face, booty and breasts.
Why I gotta be a trick?

No, we mean, "hat trick.” It's like this hockey…forget it. How about we call you a triple threat?
That's much better. All my friends have nice butts. When we take pictures, my friend Liris [Crosse] is the bottom and I'm the top. I've been neglecting the booty.

Well, consider this photo shoot your "coming out” party. Speaking of which, when was the last time somebody ran a bubble bath for you?
I used to have somebody run me bubble baths all day. I'm real good at giving massages. If he runs me a bath, I'll give him a back massage.

Does that man have a blog? A tell-all book in the works, perhaps?
It's funny, my grandma said my boyfriend at the time fattened me up. He's a large guy himself. He was just making sure . . . I keep my weight on me. My fans tell me I lost weight, and I say I'm 180 lbs. I ain't lost no weight. One-Eighteee! He's a magnificent cook, feeding me lobsters, steaks, candied yams, pork chops and pasta. We ate all the time.

There's a putrid oral sex joke in there somewhere, but we're a lil' classier than that. So you're single now?
Why, you wanna be my boyfriend?

Do you need a man to whip you into shape?
I definitely don't want no punk! I don't want nobody to beat me down. I need a gentleman by day and a . . . by night.

What? A strapping Communist [laughs]?
I need a tall man. I can't do nothing with no little man. He has to be 6-foot-1 or taller and at least 240. I need a man that makes this big thick girl feel small.

My driver's license says 6'1” and I rarely miss a meal. Since you're a freewheeling single girl, what would we find in your apartment if we inspected with a black light?
Spaghetti stains, Cocoa Puffs. Ain't no action going on in that apartment.

That's right. Real players don't play on the home court. That way you have the option to leave when it's over. Am I lying?
I want someone in-house.

Somebody that can get up and make you a sandwich when it's done? Some 2 a.m. roll-over lovin'?
Oh yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about. Run my bath water.