Five things.

1. My mother apparently watches Animax. I'm speechless.

2. I am making a new mixtape. This one's for my useless arse of a brother. Haven't planned the tracklist yet, but Janis Joplin's 'Mercedes Benz' has to be in there somewhere. Because, as we all know, it's a song of great social and political import. I am a potentially compulsive maker of mixtapes. I don't make them for people I like or love, I make them for people who want to listen to new things. Surprisingly few people, would you believe it. And this puts me in an awkward position, because my brother does not want to hear new things. He wants to vegetate under the influence of Eurotrashy technotrica. I'm ashamed of him :[ Or maybe they think I'm going to stuff their ears with artery-splitting industrial rock. Which, for the record, I rarely listen to, and only two or three bands. Mixtaping is so horribly indie, but I get an enormous satisfaction out of introducing music to people. I like to hear things like: 'Wow, I thought she was a a certain kind of singer, you know what I mean? But actually she's amazing.' This is the best, though: 'I listened to it, and I want more!' Loyal readers (yeah, right), feel free to ask for one of these spifftacular compilations, and I'll come up with one sometime after the first week of June.

3. 'My' room in this flat is an utter downer. One wall is all desk and shelves, another is tedious porcelain and glass goods I am told would make us thousands at the auctioneer's. Another is window and door. The one wall I have relatively free is badly lit. I've decided to put up a noticeboard there, to pin photos, drawings, reminders, quotes and other miscellany on. Is that a very teenage thing to do? I'm afraid I can't care. Waking up to the sight of Morrissey waggling bouquets of flowers and wearing one of his blinding 80s shirts would be heavenly. And I'll finally remember to do all those chores I'm supposed to.

4. Last week I saw my first Pasolini film - his take on the Canterbury Tales. It was hilarious, it was porny, it had Ninetto, it was - well, almost everything I expected a Pasolini film to be. I'm actually more familiar with his literary work - read his first two novels and many of his poems in translation. And of course I've read about him. I don't think I was prepared for the level of slapstick sexviolence, although I think I took to it better than, oh, twenty- or thirty-odd other students in the AV room did. A lot of nervous giggles and meaningful silences in the air. The last sequence, with demons in lurid body-paint shitting out churchmen and welcoming the new denizens of Hell with some thorough buggering, nearly had me in splits. And that's interesting, because the joke of this film, the comedy if you will, was so blackly malicious it wasn't really funny anymore. Ah, don't you love tortured avant-garde cultural icons. They're there to make you feel better about yourself. If you dare.

5. Bob Dylan is gonna be a radio jockey. Cue news items starting: Hey Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me... There're rumours of a new biopic on him featuring five or six different actors as Dylan. Very cool idea, especially as it seems they're not going for physical resemblance. The article also said that Julianne Moore is going to be in it, but not as Dylan. Bah, why not? A woman playing the Sainted Not-yet-dead White Male Bard of Classic Folkrock - that would be cooler than Antarctica. Although let it be stressed that these are rumours - which when Dylan is concerned are cranked out with unholy speed and regularity.