I just cast your horoscope and, um, well...is your will up to date?  Just curious.

Here we have a high-falutin' Princeton pocketwatch.  It's antimagnetic so you don't have to worry about iron filings or large bank safes sticking to it.    There's a crown logo above the brandname, so when you whip it out people will think you are really fancy and may belong to the House of Windsor.  Also, surrounding the face are the twelve signs of the zodiac in gold color set in what looks like black enamel.  Religious fundamentalists won't like this.  They will tell you it was made by the devil to hypnotize you into walking the left-hand path.  As evidence, they will point to the brand name Princeton, which shares letters with Prince of Darkness. We all know the P.O.D. is like way big, perhaps weighing a ton. And, too, the crown could be Satan's logo because he is the king of Hell.  Right?  Also, antimagnetic is a sly jab at Jesus.  Think about it.  What does anti mean?  Opposite or against (or if you're from the south -and I am- it means your mother's or father's sister).  And Jesus, by all accounts, had a magnetic personality.  So, we can read antimagnetic as against he who had a magnetic personality.  To top it off, it's Swiss Made. I don't have to tell you how evil the Swiss are...
But, seriously...
This is a really, really cool watch.  It's in very good condition.  The only flaws are two small scratches on the crystal;  one to the left of one o'clock position and one between the four and five o'clock indicators, and some oxidizing on the metal.   There is some wearing of the gold finish, also.  I'm confident that the metal can be buffed and polished into a beautiful lustre.  I don't think that the scratches are noticeable enough to warrant having the crystal replaced, as I'm sure it would cost a pretty penny. Or a few thousand pretty and ugly pennies. The back of the case is worked in a very interesting and stylish pattern that reminds one of days spent daydreaming at El Escorial or wandering the Moorish ruins of ancient Fez. 
I have not opened the case because I cannot find any obvious tool rest or pressure point with which to do so and I don't want to scratch the finish, which I will inevitably do.  I have to admit that I sometimes open cases like otters open clamshells.  Not...ahem...delicately.  In the case of Faded Glory watches, I open them with a hammer.
Therefore, I haven't noted if the watch actually words but when one winds it, one feels as if it should work.  Without a second hand, one hasn't the patience to wait an entire minute. 
All this has been to say that I think this is an interesting little watch.  Even if it is quite evil.

Brand:  Princeton
Suitable for which sex:  Pocketwatch for men or women
Materials:  Case is metal, maybe steel or brass.  Decoration around face is of unknown material.  Possibly enameled.  Face is of unknown material.  Possibly ceramic. 
Movement:  Swiss winding movement.  Questionable whether it works. I'm unwilling to try to force the case open for fear of damaging the watch.
Condition:  In good condition though it needs cleaning.  The crystal has two small scratches as noted above. 

Rating:  Seven Milgausses.


Define "Special"...

Well, this watch is ruined.  Too bad, because it looks like a lot of effort went into the manufacture.  Were it not for the stupid, stupid, stupid "Special Son," I would really dig it. 
Would anyone ever actually carry a thing like this?  I think not. It just screams "Mama's boy!!!!!!"
Just hypothetically, let's pretend our imaginary friend Stuart has managed to engage the interest of a reasonably attractive female.  They have talked for hours, unaware of the world around them, engaged only in each other, falling deeper and deeper in love with every passing second.  He charms her with his tales of triumphing over a boyhood of plastic sheets and headgear, and she flirts ever more blatantly with punches on the arm and braying, donkey like laughter. 
To the hidden observer, it is glaringly obvious that a kiss is all but inevitable.  The switch has been thrown, the dynamo has begun to spin.  It revs faster and faster as the hormones rage through the young couple like a quick onset STD.  Then, as the dynamo of lusty love spins to a whining, buzzing crescendo, they gaze into one another's eyes. 
Her lips part.
In a voice like a bamboo forest rustling in a gale, she asks the time.
His hand, palm love-wet and warm, reaches into the third zipper on the right of his Michael Jackson replica leather jacket to retrieve his only real treasure.  Out it comes, chain rattling with the sound of promised light bondage.  Her gaze is drawn to it.  He carries a pocket watch?   Her mind whirls, ensorcelled by his Fonzie-like cooliosity. 
Time forgotten, she reaches for him, wanting, needing to feel the press of his blueberry Popsicle stained lips against hers. Her eyes rove over his lanky, red-leatherette covered arms as they come close. 
Then, just as their lips are about to meet like four slugs writhing in perverted slug-sex, she sees the writing cut into the fine metal of his watch.
Special Son.
Her mind snaps.  The knowledge that she had nearly given herself to a raging, unibrowed dorfwad, descends upon her consciousness like the contents of an upended Port-O-Let and sends her spinning down the vaseline mountainside of insanity. 
Luckily, Stuart later was able to recall to the police the precise time she had freaked out on his ass, because in her fury she had struck out and tried to stop the incessant march of time by stopping the irritating tick of his "Special Son" pocketwatch.

Yeah.  True story. 

If it were possible to have this maggot-gagging thing disengraved so that no trace of the original were left, then perhaps it would be okay. 
Of course, there would forever be the haunting memory of what once had been.

Brand:  Majesti - Right off, this earns serious demerits.  Mangling a word by replacing a "y" with an "i" is almost as bad as giving your product a name like Faded Glory.  It puts you in the hairspray, bubblegum, and Boone's Farm scented world of Bambi, Dani, Candi, Mitzi, Ditzi, and Santa's seven other "Ho"liday strippers.  Not exactly high-tone or up-town.
For men or women?  It says Son on the face, so you make the call.
Materials:  Metal that has been irredeemably defaced.
Movement:  Supposedly Swiss Quartz.  I have no idea if it works, and I don't care to find out.
Condition:  It seems to be some arcane law of Fortune that the most wretch-inducing objects invariably are in the best condition.  Thus is it with this.

Rating:  Take a wild guess.
Red Lightning Bowturd.