Fruit

Optimists call me a pessimist, which in my opinion is pessimistic of them. I'm actually a realist, by which I mean that when people ask me if my glass is half full or half empty I punch them hard in the solar plexus.
I don't know if optimists invented cliches. It kind of seems that way, possibly because it is difficult to condense a realistic point of view into trite, insulting phrases that one can bleat in lieu of solving problems. For example, optimists are fond of saying that if life hands you lemons, you should make lemonade. To be fair, I suppose this works pretty well for problems that are mostly citrus-related. But what do you do if life fucks you up the ass? There is no equivalent beverage for that. Or, if there was, it would never sell. In all of history, no kid has ever made a nickel with a Sodomy-Ade stand.
People may invite you to look on the bright side. I recommend this. It's nice over there. Clowns are juggling chipmunks, and everyone's a winner. However, you'll want to keep an eye on the dark side, because that's where the ass-fuckers hide out, waiting for you to unclench your butt-cheeks. Ass-fuckers are optimists.
God, on the other hand, is a pessimist. He's always bitching about something, and when bad shit goes down, he's always like, "See! See! I told you that was going to happen!" Not for an instant did God believe that Adam and Eve could be cool about the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. This is a perfect example of what optimists disparagingly refer to as a 'self-fulfilling prophecy,' a notion that takes on new dimensions if you happen to be the Creator of Everything.
I have sympathy for God, however, because his philosophy is much like my own futile attempts at clear, responsible thinking. Floundering and talking to himself, or screaming at his image in the mirror, he shares with me one fundamental shortcoming: with all his power over fruit and water and men, he will never be able to enjoy anal rape on ice.