Everything at Yen Wor feels like a dreamy non sequitur: where else in Seattle can you get a Jello shot in a to-go container while watching, say, a white mustached man croon Sinatra followed by twentysomething patron pristinely spout OutKast’s “Roses” as a leathery motorcycle gang looks on? This backroom karaoke bar at a Chinese restaurant shows what West Seattle’s underbelly looks like: baroquely diverse and darkly neonlit.