Our phone system at the office is completely run on VOIP — or Voice Over IP — utilizing the internet and bypassing standard phone lines. Of course, this means we also bypass bureaucratic old phone companies.

However, while VOIP is great for home use (Vonage, for example), its got some kinks for business use. Fax machines, hundreds of extensions, voice mailboxes, and other such things of that nature all throw curveballs at it. The system works most of the time.

Voice mails reside as WAV files on a server in our computer room, which is kinda cool. This also means to make your phone ringer change, you just point the software on your computer to a different WAV file, like the “Theme from Manimal” that you downloaded off of Limewire or something.

Anyway, two weeks ago they had to install a new server for it, because the original one was not big enough. This of course reset all voice mail prompts to the generic computer-voice-man version. For mine, it said “Max Underscore Univers” in this awesome robotic voice, and then the nice human lady prompt finished the message.

Needless to say, I left my prompt as that. I mean, that’s awesome, right?

Turns out some folks in the office didn’t think so, and I was asked to change it. Didn’t do it though, the robotic guy was just too cool. Today the phone guy literally stood at my desk and watched me change it.

Dullard. I rather liked being Max Underscore Univers. Dammit.

I’ve been to over 100 Creighton games in the 10 years I’ve lived here in Omaha, and I’ve never been present for a game-winning shot at the buzzer. Until Saturday night. For that matter, I’ve never been in an arena, or a stadium, or a ballpark and seen my team win on a last-second play. Until Saturday night.

Saturday night, Creighton fell behind 25-6 in the first 12 minutes of the game. A furious comeback put them in position for Anthony Tolliver to hit a 15-foot jumper as time expired to win 57-55. The entire 12-second sequence unfolded right in front of us…

As Johnny Mathies brought the ball up the court, my old college roommate John (who was in town for the game) was incredulous that the Jays weren’t calling timeout. When I watched the TiVo of the game the next day, the TV announcers shared that opinion. I knew better — Dana Altman prefers his teams to go for the winning shot without calling timeout. Sure, you can set up a play, but the defense can too, and he’s always trusted his teams to create a shot without having to draw something up. Sometimes it backfires, like in the 2004 NIT game against Nebraska. Sometimes like Saturday night, it works beautifully.

This morning, I got an email from my buddy Cliff’s brother, Andy. He told me he had happened upon ABC’s “Dancing With The Stars” last night while channel surfing, and, well, I’ll let his words speak for themselves.

“The host mentions right before the break — ‘Be sure to stay tuned as (skank) and (androgynous) dance to THE FINAL COUNTDOWN.’

And they did.”

This means, of course, that the renaissance of Europe, spearheaded by my Millions of readers, has now jumped the mullet. When your song is used on “Arrested Development”, its cool. When Lisa and Louis dance to your song on “Dancing With The Stars”, its over.

As I did not see the show — damn that CSI in High Definition! — I’ll take Andy’s word for it when he says it was awesome, but in a decidedly not awesome way.

There’s ridiculous, and then there’s $795 shots. Not paid assassin shots — shots of liquor. $795. Good lord. Where on earth did I come across such an atrocity? Right here in Omaha, at a restaurant named after a type of dark wood (heretofore referred to as TDW or That Dark Wood), located across from Boys Town on West Dodge.

You’re probably wondering how I ended up at such a place that would have $795 shots. Well, its kind of funny actually.

There was a time in our volleyball league — all of the last six years, actually — that you would plays 9 weeks, and the tenth week was a BCS-style one game playoff. 1 v 2, 3 v 4, etc. So the only games that really meant anything that night were 1 v 2. But at least we all got to play.

This session, they implemented a playoff system. Everyone plays 10 weeks, and then two weeks of playoffs to determine a champion. And for the first time since high school, I experienced first-hand what its like to be left out. For years, I’ve watched as college and pro teams I follow would miss the playoffs, or bowls, or tournaments. And its sucks, but there’s always another sport, another team, to follow.

Being part of it, I had forgotten how crushing it is. When we walked off the court last night, it hit me that we won’t play again for three months. That’s a helluva long time, man.

The fact that we phoned in all three games and lost big didn’t help. Nothing to play for except personal fitness and fun — what the hell is the point of that? If games were meant to be played for fun, they wouldn’t keep score.