Warring With Hunneypunkin (Or, Magicking Weeds Into Bacon)

Hunneypunkin wants to spray weeds.  The problem is, he doesn't.  (Did I already tell this story?  I don't remember.)  Now I understand that all spring long, when the weeds are sweet and adorable just like all babies, it's either windy or raining or both and you can't spray the weeds in the wain and rinnd.  By the time the spring windses and rainses are gone, the weeds have all turned into big people.  Then, since there are no more rainsies and windsies, Hunneypunkin sprays weeds.  Guess what we have then?  An acre of big, ugly deadness.  Yuck!
I don't like weed spray because it stinks and I'm sure it's poisonous for plants and people and animals and water and ozone and other neat stuff.  I also don't like weeds because they mess with my favoriter plants.  So my solution is for Hunneypunkin to pull, shovel, pick, or hoe the weeds.  The problem is, he doesn't.  Plan B would be for Jeremy Renner to do it, but he lives too far away.  Besides, then there would be a big pile of dead weeds and they'd have to be burned or hauled off to the landfill or sneaked into the neighbor's yard, and that's just too much work.  Plus then if the neighbors return the favor, you're back at square one.
Hunneypunkin and I have had a habit of spiritedly debating the Spray-Versus-Pull Weed War at least three times every spring and twice during summer.  We've made it a tradition, kind of like Christmas only without the snow, candies, gifts, carols, stockings, good cheer, or eggnog.
This year, however, we came up with a different option: pigs.  We tossed a few oinkers in a pen out back.  I worked up the ambition to pull weeds myownself, and don't you know those hogs are pretty happy about eating their green leafies.  It's a pretty decent solution.  Hunneypunkin doesn't have to spray, dig, pull, pick, OR burn, I can feel all green and environmental, my yard looks pretty nice, I get a little exercise, and when the winter comes and the weeds are no more, we'll have bacon.  You KNOW how I feel about bacon.