Catgirl Panty Juice [CGPJ]
1 members
Jun 3, 2026(0y)
7% tax
Combat
Kills0
Losses2
Efficiency0%
Danger Ratio100%
ISK
Destroyed0
Lost31.4k
ISK Eff.0%
Balance-31420
Activity
Solo Kills0
Final Blows0
Points0
Members1
Last 90 Days
Kills0
Losses2
ISK Destroyed0
ISK Lost31.4k
Combat
Kills0
Losses2
Efficiency0%
Danger Ratio100%
ISK
Destroyed0
Lost31.4k
ISK Efficiency0%
Balance-31420
Activity
Solo Kills0
Final Blows0
Points0
Members1
Last 90 Days
Kills0
Losses2
ISK Destroyed0
ISK Lost31.4k
No data available
Bio
The finest panties juiced by Genetically Modified Japanese Catgirl Maid Cosplayers with autism so you know it's good
The panties were made from silk harvested from the most dangerous wormholes.
The panties were spun under a blood moon deep in triglavian territory.
The panties were blessed by Caldari Guristas priests HIGH ON DMT.
The panties were imbued with the scent of the only catgirls in new eden... Every. Single. One.
The panties were soaked in the unwashed essence of a 72-hour visual novel marathon.
The panties were stitched using the unraveled neural pathways of a lobotomized Amarr slave.
The panties were washed in the tears of a high-sec miner who just lost his first Orca.
The panties were dried on the radiator of a overheated, red-lining Tengu.
The panties were ironed by a Catgirl that was fed nothing but Plex and nanite repair paste.
The panties were smuggled through a Jita 4-4 blockade inside a container marked "Hazardous Biomass."
The panties were trade-flogged in local chat for three days straight by an automated alpha clone.
The panties were blessed by a Monkish faction of Drifters who forgot what human emotions feel like.
The panties were dyed using the crushed remains of rare Rogue Drone processors.
The panties were woven with the exact frequency of a Cynosural field opening in an empty system.
The panties were cursed by a Bittervet who hasn't logged into the game since 2012.
The panties were infused with the existential dread of losing a Marshall to a low-sec gate camp.
The panties were spun from the fabric of a localized server crash during a major alliance tournament.
The panties were soaked in the spilled Quafe Ultra of a CEO who fell asleep during a stratop.
The panties were marinated in a Rorqual in a pocket of a wormhole space at a deepsafe in Thera.
The panties were scanned by an entire fleet of highsec pirates who honored them on a no gank list.
The panties were appraised by a Jita scammer who claimed they were worth 67 trillion ISK.
The panties were blessed by a faction of Sansha's Nation true believers during a live invasion.
The panties were smuggled across the border in the exhaust manifold of a stealth transport.
The panties were washed in the coolant fluid of a faction Citadel's point defense system.
The panties were worn by a catgirl who spent three weeks straight gooning to anime.
The panties were synthesized using data gathered from a ruined ancient Talocan relic site.
The panties were infused with the salty essence of a thousand local chat arguments about high sec ganking.
The panties were honoured by the developers in a system no player has access to as a permanent memorial.
The panties were kept under lock and key by a paranoid director who thief-looted the entire corp hangar.
The panties were used as collateral for a loan that triggered a massive inter-alliance war.
The panties were calibrated to perfectly match the thermal resistance profile of an armor-tanked Abaddon.
The panties were blessed by the ghosts of every Brave Newbie who ever burned out in their first week.
The panties were woven under the strict supervision of a micro-managing faction warfare commander.
The panties once, merely grazed the cargo bay of a mighty Avatar-class Titan.
The ship exploded instant
The panties were made from silk harvested from the most dangerous wormholes.
The panties were spun under a blood moon deep in triglavian territory.
The panties were blessed by Caldari Guristas priests HIGH ON DMT.
The panties were imbued with the scent of the only catgirls in new eden... Every. Single. One.
The panties were soaked in the unwashed essence of a 72-hour visual novel marathon.
The panties were stitched using the unraveled neural pathways of a lobotomized Amarr slave.
The panties were washed in the tears of a high-sec miner who just lost his first Orca.
The panties were dried on the radiator of a overheated, red-lining Tengu.
The panties were ironed by a Catgirl that was fed nothing but Plex and nanite repair paste.
The panties were smuggled through a Jita 4-4 blockade inside a container marked "Hazardous Biomass."
The panties were trade-flogged in local chat for three days straight by an automated alpha clone.
The panties were blessed by a Monkish faction of Drifters who forgot what human emotions feel like.
The panties were dyed using the crushed remains of rare Rogue Drone processors.
The panties were woven with the exact frequency of a Cynosural field opening in an empty system.
The panties were cursed by a Bittervet who hasn't logged into the game since 2012.
The panties were infused with the existential dread of losing a Marshall to a low-sec gate camp.
The panties were spun from the fabric of a localized server crash during a major alliance tournament.
The panties were soaked in the spilled Quafe Ultra of a CEO who fell asleep during a stratop.
The panties were marinated in a Rorqual in a pocket of a wormhole space at a deepsafe in Thera.
The panties were scanned by an entire fleet of highsec pirates who honored them on a no gank list.
The panties were appraised by a Jita scammer who claimed they were worth 67 trillion ISK.
The panties were blessed by a faction of Sansha's Nation true believers during a live invasion.
The panties were smuggled across the border in the exhaust manifold of a stealth transport.
The panties were washed in the coolant fluid of a faction Citadel's point defense system.
The panties were worn by a catgirl who spent three weeks straight gooning to anime.
The panties were synthesized using data gathered from a ruined ancient Talocan relic site.
The panties were infused with the salty essence of a thousand local chat arguments about high sec ganking.
The panties were honoured by the developers in a system no player has access to as a permanent memorial.
The panties were kept under lock and key by a paranoid director who thief-looted the entire corp hangar.
The panties were used as collateral for a loan that triggered a massive inter-alliance war.
The panties were calibrated to perfectly match the thermal resistance profile of an armor-tanked Abaddon.
The panties were blessed by the ghosts of every Brave Newbie who ever burned out in their first week.
The panties were woven under the strict supervision of a micro-managing faction warfare commander.
The panties once, merely grazed the cargo bay of a mighty Avatar-class Titan.
The ship exploded instant
Active Members
Stats
Kills0
Losses2
Efficiency0%
ISK Destroyed0
ISK Lost31.4k
ISK Efficiency0%
Solo Kills0
NPC Losses0
Final Blows0
Points0
Most Lost Ships
Dies To (Corps)
Dies To (Alliances)
