When it comes to ‘Voyeur,' sometimes I just like to watch.

I have watched these “Voyeur” deals on HBO On Demand for quite sometime now, and I admit to you I have no clue what the flip is going on.

The new project is a multimedia experience (whatever the hell that means) that allows the viewer to look into otherwise closed windows of several different apartment buildings to “illustrate the underlying truth that sometimes the most revealing stories are the ones you weren't meant to see.”

And that is in no way confusing.

Why not just call it what it is? For instance, “Come on over to HBO and peep in the hopes of seeing folks get butt naked and screw or to see them do something disgusting like eat their toenails.”

I can think of no other reason why I would want to look in on other peoples lives other than to see some hot monkey loving or really nasty personal quirks in the hopes that it makes my own personal quirks seem less, eewww.

Not that I eat my toenails. But I certainly would not turn away if I was peeking into someone's window and saw them doing it.

That is the fascination behind HBO's new experiment. We all want to see other people doing stuff we don't have the guts, opportunity, stones, nerve or whatever to do. It's all just a plan to see who among us is the sickest freak.

That is something I can wholly get into. Just because I don't understand what is supposed to happen with these five-minute episodes doesn't mean they are not worth watching.
You can only see them on HBO On Demand or at hbovoyeur.com. With stories like “The Departure,” “The Killer Within” and “The Grownup Table,” each little piece is made to ultimately flow into one larger story. I think.

Like I said, this is all very confusing. Especially when your idea of artsy TV is the episode of “Sanford and Son” where Grady partook in a nude art installation.

Each piece shows two apartments at a time and the goings-on therein. However, there is no dialogue, just creepy music. Yet somewhere in between the dude leaving his family and the strip-poker dance party, the awful reality hit me. Dear Lord, these GD people are mimes. Mimes!

Jumping around like members of the fanny-pack brigade. Mimes. Mimes partaking in a multimedia experience designed to “illustrate the underlying truth that sometimes the most revealing stories are the ones you weren't meant to see.” Way to go, “Voyeur.”

And you thought I was going to spend a column talking about how I spent a few days peeping into my neighbor's windows. Well, shows you!

Actually, I was court-ordered not to.