ONE day back in the late 1980s I looked at my car and realised something wasn't quite right.

With mounting anger I realised my Golf was missing a vital piece of its identity - a VW.

Those ruddy* Beastie Boys!' I cried (*not the actual word I used, but this is a family paper). The hip hop group set a precedent by stealing Volkswagen badges to wear as pendants. The group's huge fanbase duly aped their heroes while VW parts centres rubbed their hands with glee.

While I could understand the reason behind the theft, a more recent crime has left me scratching my head.

My yard broom has gone missing. It wasn't a particularly flamboyant affair, probably one from the B&Q value range, as it happens.

What baffles me is why someone would bother to come onto my property, walk several yards up the drive to the back door, steal a scruffy broom and leave other items behind. What about the brand new hose reel with all the fancy attachments and trimmings? Or the attractive glazed pots in Delpht blue?

There's a 40-page Home Office report by the Policing and Reducing Crime Unit which seeks to identify the things most likely to be stolen.

Apparently, nickable goods share a number of common attributes: They are generally concealable, removable, available, valuable, enjoyable and disposable.

Well, the broom was admittedly available and removable. But valuable it wasn't and I struggle to think where the thief concealed it as they left the premises.

Disposing of it wouldn't be too easy, either (the top would stick out of the most accommodating bin) and, enjoyable? Well, if sweeping dead leaves creates enough stimulus for you to commit a crime, then I feel sorry for you.

Now, enjoyable would be something like a baby animal, so imagine my glee when a colleague reported how a friend of a friend's little boy had visited Marwell Zoo and snuck a penguin home in his rucksack.

Sounded plausible enough but after a quick search online, the story turned out to be an urban myth which was generated about 10 years ago and had even travelled across the pond and back (the rumour not the penguin) via the New England Aquarium in Boston where a similar imaginary penguin had been taken home in a mythical backpack. Shame.

Very real pilfering tales abound, however, from a number of long-suffering hotels.

It really comes as no surprise that customers steal goods with widespread abandon, towels coming top of the list, according to Caterer and Hotelkeeper magazine. One in five establishments also report that bathrobes find their way out of hotels via guests' suitcases.

Toilet seats and brushes, a medieval sword and a door hinge have also been stolen from hotels, together with a hotel owner's dog, a 4ft high wooden bear, and a spy hole from a hotel room door.

More than 10 per cent of staff reported toilet rolls as the items most often taken and one per cent said penny-pinching guests would even steal the lightbulbs from their rooms.

It makes you wonder if these people would steal toilet paper or lightbulbs from a friend's house.

Anyway, I doubt if the chambermaids are really offended if a few rolls of luxury soft went missing in a year.

Which brings me onto my final tale of vagrancy.

Some time ago, baddies broke into my car, rummaged around my quite extensive music collection and, do you know what? Didn't steal a single thing.

Now that REALLY smarted.