ONE of my friends told me the other day as I launched an attack on the cost of school trips these days "You're always mouthing off about things".

"It's only a couple of miles down the road," I ranted. "I remember going on a school skiing trip to Austria for not much more than that."

"What are you whinging about now?" said another pal, "You should be on Room 101."

Chance would be a fine thing. If I ever achieve the level of fame and fortune of the guests on that programme I wouldn't need to moan. But then it's all relative -- everyone has gripes, no matter how well-known or wealthy they are.

And at the moment I've got loads. I need to offload them, so, even though I'm not on the telly, I'm going to open the door to my own Room 101 -- the fictitious torture chamber created by George Orwell in his novel 'Nineteen Eighty-Four', where prisoners' worst nightmares are played out -- and chuck a few pet hates into it.

Fox hunting: I was born and brought up in the country, where people would talk of hunt meets and hunt balls. But I could never reconcile myself to this cruel activity which -- like bear baiting and cock fighting -- has run its course. A recent letter proposed each hunter undergo the same chase and sticky end as a hunted fox. My sentiments exactly.

Tony Blair: For failing to ban fox hunting during his first term in office. And the rest.

G-strings: As readers of this column know, I would rather pole dance in our staff canteen than wear one of these contraptions. And what does it take for women to realise how revolting they look above a pair of low-slung trousers? If a bloke appeared in a similar get-up he'd be arrested.

Toddlers with pierced ears: The tots can stay outside the room, but the ears and the jewellery that irresponsible (I believe it is -- I have seen babies with hoop earrings) parents have seen fit to inflict upon them can go in. Parents should resist at least until a child is old enough to decide for him or herself (18 in my opinion).

Parkinson (or 'Parky' to those who like him): I'm sorry, I know he's a Yorkshireman and is loved by many. But he really does suck up and pander to his chat show guests and the result is not what I would call entertainment. I have yet to watch it (I wish I could place a full-stop after those words, but alas I can't) and be moved in any way other than to get up and change the channel. He has long since passed his sell-by date.

Food left over after children have been eating it: Some parents (my husband and most of my friends included) will willingly devour food their children have left over. I won't go within a mile of a half-eaten chicken nugget or a slice of pizza with the topping half licked off.

Slathery dogs: Don't get me wrong, I like dogs a lot. But some produce more saliva than others and it is those dogs that I do not like having in close proximity. Red setters, golden retrievers, great Danes: sorry, you are lovely, but you have to go.

Training shoes: The day when these became part of everyday attire for both men and women should be erased from history. They were designed for the running track and that is where they should stay. People should wake up to the fact that nothing -- I repeat NOTHING -- other than sportswear, looks good when worn with them.

Oasis: The band not the green bits in the middle of the desert. I can honestly say I hate their drudgerous songs.

Well that's all I have space for. Shame, I could go on forever -- cheese, historical docu-dramas, laminate flooring, my husband!