That’s Good Poultry.

My nephew, Spanky, was a chicken last Halloween. Tonight, he’ll be a rooster. I suppose the natural progression for next year: turducken.

I Rate The Autographs At Mulberry Street Pizza In Beverly Hills.

Rodney King signs along with the gang from “Sober House.”
FINAL ANALYSIS: What do I gotta do to get to sign the wall? Exceed the speed limit, get beaten up and drink too much, apparently.

Halle Berry loves “you” pizza so much, she misspells her own name.
FINAL ANALYSIS: May want to finish painting over this one.

Don Rickles points to Sharon Stone’s autograph with the note “Sharon call!”
FINAL ANALYSIS: Interesting long-term attempt to get into Sharon’s pants.

Leonardo DiCaprio quotes the bloodied and beaten Jake LaMotta, with “You never knocked me down, Ray.” A reference to Raging Bull star/Mulberry co-owner Cathy Moriarty.
FINAL ANALYSIS: That kid from “Growing Pains” is cool.

Tom Cruise and Richard Lewis signed next to each other.
FINAL ANALYSIS: Ask for the no-sanity section.

David Caruso gets his quotes on.
FINAL ANALYSIS: I’m guessing he put on his shades in between writing the words “great” and “pizza.”

Buddy Hackett gives his native Borough Park, Brooklyn a shout-out.
FINAL ANALYSIS: If I owned a restaurant, I’d only allow fat celebrities to sign my walls.

Philadelphia Giveth.

Normally, the Yankees in the World Series would be cause for celebration. And yet, for some reason I’m not wearing a party hat and sitting bare-ass on a copy machine.

That’s because the Philadelphia Phillies did a real number on the Yanks last night. But then Philly redeemed itself just a tiny bit when I found out that Julie Ann Emery, one of the co-stars of my film, The Beneficiary, won Best Actress at the FirstGlance Film Fest in Philadelphia. Outstanding.

I suppose it should come as no surprise; Julie Ann is one of the most talented actresses I’ve ever worked with, and she was always pleasant and prepared. And now, when it comes to an acting nomination, she sticks the landing, as usual. Good work, J.

My Favorite Divorce.

As a defender of all things Los Angeles, I grow weary of the notion that marriages here don’t last. A quick Google search will reveal that L.A. is far from the divorce capital of the United States. That claim belongs to Tacoma. But I’m focusing today on my favorite city – L.A. – and a divorce involving my favorite sport – baseball. I’d assume the top sport in Tacoma is foxy boxing.

On second thought, check that – I defend all things L.A. except for their sports teams. My allegiance will always remain with New York. My friend Marc recently asked who I’d root for if the Yankees met the Dodgers in the World Series. I believe my reply was, “The Dodgers can suck my ass.”

Which transitions nicely to the divorce of Dodger owners Frank and Jamie McCourt. Oh, who can’t forget the inseparable sweethearts who after being outbid trying to buy their hometown Red Sox, purchased the Dodgers instead and let their sacchariny love begin to ruin this storied franchise? And recently, as their relationship turned ugly, it got damn entertaining.

Jamie, a really sexy older babe, is currently being pushed out of her job as Dodger CEO by Frank, who cites one of the grounds for her dismissal as “inappropriate behavior with a direct subordinate.” That is hot.

I believe Jamie and Frank’s disintegration ranks higher than ESPN baseball analyst Steve Phillips’ recent split. By the way, how fitting is it that Phillips, the former Mets general manager, chose to bang a chick that looks just like Benny Agbayani?

So, you gay dudes still really want the right to get married? Best of luck when you get it.

Kickass Rat Trap Sighting Of The Week.

Just to the right of the entrance of Ralph’s Supermarket.
Hawthorne Blvd., Redondo Beach.

Festivus, Part XXXIV.

How tremendously sweet is it that the place where my parents spent their childhoods ­– Coney Island – has a festival that has accepted their son’s film? Maybe someday one of my kids will be accepted into a fest located at a peep-show booth in Times Square.

The Coney Island Film Festival is The Beneficiary’s 34^th fest, and it’s really nice to see the run continue. I wish I were in Coney Island with the film, stopping by Nathan’s for a hot dog, and an order of fries with the tiny red, plastic fork. Then riding the Cyclone and vomiting it all back up. Yeah, good times.

Thank you, Coney Island Film Festival. The best amusement-park based film festival in all of Brooklyn.

Kickass Sighting Of A Celebrity Who’s Been In A Bunch Of Stuff But You Never Remember His Name.

Vondie Curtis-Hall.
Fairfax Ave., Hollywood.