Do you ever realise that you have a talent, and then think "Actually, I'd have been more than happy going through my whole life without knowing I could do that."?

My most recently discovered skill: Covering over with bin bags gaping holes in the passenger sides of cars where a large piece of glass should be.

Yes long term blog readers, I am once again the victim of crime. For those of you that haven't been reading since the very beginning, just after I started keeping my blog a friend had her bag stolen from under a table in a pub in Soho (while she was drunkenly demanding hugs from Someone Off The Telly), and it happened to have my cashcard in it. And victim support wrote to me and offered me counselling for the trauma.

"Why would anyone want to break into Lisy's car?" I hear you cry. I mean, even if there was anything valuable in it, you wouldn't be able to spot it because of the huge piles of litter.

The villains spotted something shiny on my dashboard. Had I left twinkly, valuable looking earrings? No. That shiny thing was a laminated piece of paper. That was all they took.

I mean, for fucks sake! Be a self-respecting criminal, have some self-esteem! Take the radio, the CD's out of the glove box. Hell, even steal the £95 Specsavers sunglasses (though, of course, the prescription may not match yours, but you've already demonstrated your glass smashing skills). Stealing something that cost Camden Council about 50p to knock up seems pretty fucking pointless, you no-brained nutsack.

You could even be a nice criminal and steal some of the empty Diet Pepsi cans and Ginsters Pasty wrappers that clog up my passenger footwell.

But, your pointless theivery means that I now have to pay £100 excess (or is it £50 now I've turned 25? I can't remember) to replace a piece of glass, just so you could get your mitts on something that you could've made at home if only you'd paid studious enough attention to Blue Peter. Pathetic little wanksock.

OK, so that piece of laminated paper means you get a better parking space. But, surely, with the energy you exerted in breaking into my car, surely you could just walk from one row further in the car park. I'm amazed you could be bothered to patrol the streets of Islington looking for crip-owned cars. But maybe you already know that the police are even more apathetic than you, and they "don't bother checking for fingerprints on just a car."

There's even a website whose ad on Google promises:

Want a Blue Badge?
www.UK-Driving-Secrets.com Get one even if you're not disabled New guide reveals secrets. £17.95!

Though, I'm sure the guide probably suggests "scout round Islington looking for cars displaying Blue Badges. Smash, grab."

And I have the joy of knowing that not only do I have to pay the excess, but also, first thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to get a parking ticket for parking right outside my own house without having my blue badge on display. Hurrah.

All for 50p's worth of laminated paper. Doesn't that make you feel so great about the world we live in.

Though, I am slightly comforted by the knowledge of the torture that the thief is going to face. Yup, the blue badge has a photo of my face on the back. And I pity anyone that has to look at that.