Profile: OB Bear, 7th & Westmoreland
By Ryan - Tuesday July 19th 2005 |
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Holy sweet goodness christmas fancy pantalones, what DON’T we love about OB Bear?
The music.
It’s awful.
That’s why it’s easy to write here – the music is irredeemably bad.
I mean just bad.
Music this bad in a restaurant-bar this good will keep us coming back for years and years so we can finally concentrate on the words we are writing. As such if you ever find yourself inside the Bear on a weekday night and you see some wily-haired white boy with soju-infused eyes hunched over a bowl of peas scribbling in a notebook, kim will get you chi that it’s me.
Things we love other than the music sucking:
- neverending abundance of dried wasabi peas
- hotwings
- somehow the name of the joint mysteriously changes to the more preferred plural ‘OB Bears’ once you get inside and look at the menu
- generally warm feeling that you are going to get way too drunk here
- proximity to all manner of strangeness outside
- giant variety of table kegs to choose from – cheapest being Hite and OB beer (not to be confused with the name of the establishment itself)
- proximity to the local AA chapter (just upstairs from the table you’ve passed out on)
OB Bear! OB Bear!
where the music is bad
but we dont care!
another table keg of hite
cuz we are staying here all nite
and plenty of wasabi peas
for all you young ladies
OB Bear! OB Bear!
where the music is bad
but we dont care!
great job bb. i forgot the song this time didn’t i!? that seals it, i’m handing over the outro-chant reins to the comment section from here on out.
[...] Ktown, when combined with my buddy Kdrive, basically guarantees a world of trouble for me these days. If it’s not overindulging at OB Bear at midnight (last week), it’s having one dozen too many sojus and two dozen too many glasses of OB interspersed with one-half-a-dozen too many kimchi pancakes at Prince followed by late-night prowling, questionable arcades and dodgy speakeasies (last night). Man I’m working myself into a frenzy just putting it down in words. What’s not to love about Koreatown!! [...]
I’m doing Koreatown all wrong. I usually just hang out outside Jon’s Market and wait for something greasy to fall on my shoe.