''Paradise Hotel'' is one of the sleaziest, cheesiest programs to air on television ever. So why do I find it so supremely fascinating? Maybe it's because from the beginning, producers made no bones about their intent, ordering contestants to ''hook up or go home.'' Maybe it's because the program features no goal, no cash prizes, and believe you me, no marriage proposals -- just a bunch of sexy (in most cases...sorry, Dave) singles doing the nasty on camera. But perhaps the most intriguing aspect of ''PH'' (even more than when the ladies made the fellas line up for a mandatory ''butt check'') is how the participants keep obsessing over how they're ''playing the game.'' To get some clarification, I called up ousted blond bombed-shell Toni and asked her what the hell the ''game'' was. ''Your guess is as good as mine,'' she responded. ''And I was in the damn hotel!'' Okay, so that was basically no help whatsoever, but perhaps if I watch much more of this, the real help I require will be of the professional variety.