at sixes or sevens
at the end of the day
Bob’s your uncle
burning the midnight oil
carry coals to Newcastle
cut to the chase
drain to the lees
dressed to the nines
everything and the kitchen sink
from the horse’s mouth
go suck an egg
gravy train
hold someone’s nose to the grindstone
in one fell swoop
jump the shark
knock yourself out
lick one’s chops
push the envelope
six of one, half a dozen the other
that’s all she wrote
then she went to town
three sheets to the wind
to a T
20/20 hindsight
it comes out in the wash
we’ve got your back
of the essence