If you didn’t see Bewitched this weekend, today’s joke isn’t going to make a heck of a lot of sense. Go check out Joe Dunn’s most recent Joe Loves Crappy Movies for a strip that cuts to the heart of the matter. Joe and I had the same problem when it came to writing a comic about Bewitched, but I would say Joe solved it better than I did.

In the meantime, anyone turned off by today’s comic might get a kick out of today’s Web Comic List incentive sketch. Click here to vote for Theater Hopper so you can see it.

Cami and I went to see Bewitched on Saturday. And despite my usual highly-attuned chick flick early warning detection system, I was eager to tag along for the ride.

After watching the film, the question to myself is “If you knew Nora Ephron was the writer/director, why did you still go anyway?” I guess in the back of my head, I was holding out hope that Will Ferrell could save the movie. Sadly, when buried under a mountain of schmaltz, he can’t.

But before we get into that, let’s make one thing clear. I HATE Nora Ephron. She has either had a hand directly or indirectly in some of the worst movies to pervade modern cinema. Look at her credits on the IMDB, it reads like a who’s-who of celluloid tripe. Sleepless in Seattle, Michael, You’ve Got Mail, Lucky Numbers, When Harry Met Sally, Hanging Up. Strike that. It reads more like a rap sheet.

Her movies are a Better Homes and Gardens photo spread disguised as entertainment. People with copper kettles dangling from racks above kitchen islands. Stories about stupid people, rote misunderstandings and problems that pale in comparison to the real life issues that we combat every day. Her movies aren’t an escape from reality. They lobotomize it.

MAYBE I can give a pass to When Harry Met Sally, because it was a unique relationship drama during the era of late 80’s blow-em-up action movies. But the clich