i cant fix this shit

So my Shit is apparently fucked up. I can't tell because it looks like I want it to on my computer. But I have a mac. So I hear that is the problem. I emailed the people running shit. They need to get back to me. Or suffere divine corollary. I didn't mean it. Please help me.
God, I can't wait to get the blood clot out of here. Ship me. Make me run. I am anxious as I can be. I'm happy to be doing what I'm doing. So let's make it happen. While we make that happen, let's make number seven happen. But we can't because we'd fail. He makes it happen. I guess I should be putting the names of the characters in this. So yeah. It went John McClane, Jack Burton, Daniel Ocean and now...
#7

Sky Fucking Masterson. Dope. He has it all. He talks cool. His clothes are amazing. He gambles. He knows the bible by heart. And he gets to bone Jean Simmons, and not the douche in KISS, but she plays the hot ass missionary, Sara Brown. She is hot. Or more appropriately, "was" hot. But he is the epitome of cool. He bets on everything and wins. I really have nothing in common with this guy. Except I usually win when I gamble and I like dope clothing. But I still relate to him. He doesn't care. He's going to win because that is what he does. He's going to piss you off but he is just being himself. No one seems to know where they stand with him either. So I guess I can relate.