Good as gold
Good as gold
One time my uncle sent me a letter and couldn’t remember the address of my place at the time, so he addressed it to, “White house a block away from the corner of [street] in [town, state]” and it made it here.
This was, obviously, well before you could just use Street View or whatever.
“You know, the house next to the one that has that little cunt kid. You know the one. Always leaving his bike on the lawn, and being a real disrespectful little shit if you try to explain it’s gonna get stolen in THIS neighborhood. The house next to that. The white one, not the blue one on the other side.”
Mailman: “Oh. Yeah. I DO know that little fucker. Damn near tripped over his bike when it was covered in snow, and I didn’t know it was there.”