There's still much complaining left to do about the insidious spread of TD Banks and Subway sandwicheries, but there's also a third, equally nefarious sleeper scourge silently devouring our beloved bookstores and well-worn bars: Fro-yo.

Fro-yo hit its stride somewhere around 2006, and since that time has turned otherwise sane, rational human beings into frothing zombies, willing to fork over obscene funds for some bullshit that's not even ice cream. "It's a whole different thing," they sniff while cramming their cups full of candy and nuts and popcorn and syrup and giblets and pet hair, producing a repulsive slurry which they then suck down with a shaky-fingered desperation usually reserved for prisoners of war. So suffice it to say it's always a shame when another such place bulldozes over your favorite corner diner.

"And Now It's A Fucking Froyo Place" is a Tumblr page (with accompanying Twitter feed) that illustrates all that is shameful about the great Froyo takeover. Like Cops In Bike Lanes, it's not the poignancy of each entry that matters so much as the overall message—everything is now a fucking fro-yo place.

As Jeremiah's Vanishing New York puts it: "The lost places aren't all winners, but that's not the point. The point is that the streets of the city are being taken over by monoculture--chain stores, banks, condos--and the froyo place has come to exemplify a certain strain of this banality, one that is multiplying like a virus."

The trend is reportedly dying down, with yogurt shops around the city actually, mercifully, beginning to close. Not to worry though—there are plenty of equally depressing businesses (see: juice bar, baby gym) in need of new homes.