1) If you have not yet dropped your iPhone in the toilet, consider NOT dropping your iPhone in the toilet. This is a solid course of action, in my opinion, and one that can be easily achieved by not keeping your iPhone in your back pocket, unless your back pocket has a button, but if that's the case, you probably aren't cool enough to own an iPhone in the first place, no?
If displacement of object x (where x = a fucking expensive phone) is forced by the downward velocity of object y (where y = your pants), object x will swan dive out and away from object y, with the trajectory being affected by the natural gravitational pull of object z (where z = the shitter) by a fairly simple factor of murphy's law < just your flipping luck + manufacturers' warranty = VOID.
In layman's terms: pants down + phone falls = splish splash.
2) If you have already dropped your iPhone in the toilet, you do need to immediately remove it from the toilet, then proceed directly to step 3.
3) Wash your hands.
4) Stare at phone in horror for a few seconds and assess the damage. The screen will probably be reminiscent of scrambled porn.
5) Turn the phone off, if you can. Hit the button on the top of the phone and hold it until you see the fancydancy SLIDE TO POWER OFF option on the screen, which of course you will not see, because of the aforementioned scrambled porn. NOT THAT I KNOW WHAT THAT LOOKS LIKE, OR ANYTHING.
5a) Try holding down the home button AND the top-of-phone button at the same time until the phone shuts off.
6) Don't turn it back on. Unless you are Amy. Who turned it back on.
7) Don't stick pens in the side of the phone in a vain attempt to open it up. Unless you are Amy. Who stuck pens in the side of the phone in a vain attempt to open it up.
8) Go online and read about dunking the phone in rubbing alcohol or Everclear. Do not do this because it sounds scary, but consider taking a shot of Everclear. Or 12.
8a) Sink into blissful alcohol poisoning coma, where you will never have to think about the time you dropped your iPhone in the toilet, forever and ever, fluffy clouds and harps.
9) Put the phone down. Walk away. Wring hands, rent garments, gnash teeth.
10) Do not walk back to the phone after 10 minutes and attempt to start it back up. Unless you are...oh, you know where this is going.
12) Stick the phone in a cup of rice. Fret for a few minutes re: basmati or Arborio or possibly some Uncle Ben's Cheddar Rice with Broccoli before settling on the long grain enriched.
13) Remember, perhaps, that you did not ever finish peeing.
14) Confess to husband. Get shrill and hysterical over the idea that you may have to get an non-iPhone phone, because you cannot afford another iPhone, but doesn't he understand? You had an iPhone! You cannot go back now! What are you supposed to use, a fucking Razr?
14a) Consider prostitution.
15) Call it a day and go to bed. Tell reflection in mirror that it is not worthy of owning an electric toothbrush, much less an iPhone. Tell non-reflected-self to go to hell.
16) Wait at least 24 hours before turning the phone back on. Whoop with joy at the sight of the Apple logo. Holler with ecstasy at the sight of the homescreen. Weep with gratitude when the phone connects to the network with a fat, full signal.
17) Touch the Phone icon to call you husband and tell him that he doesn't need to divorce you after all.
18) Touch it again when nothing happens.
20) Safari? Mail? iPod? Settings? Anyone? Bueller?
21) Determine that only the top half of the screen is working. Congratulations! Your iPhone is now a $600 texting/calendar/Google Mapping device.
21a) Oh, and YouTube. You can still totally get the sneezing panda video.
22) Turn phone off and flee the room, decide to give it another 24 hours, also wonder what the odds are that the Apple guys at the Genius Bar will believe you that my heavens, I have no idea what happened, or if the iPhone comes with a tracking chip like George's book on Seinfeld, which in that case they will simply hand the phone back to you and say, I'm sorry, but this phone has been in the toilet, and we cannot help you.
(Ahh, this old chestnut. I should really have this photo on a macro by now. Ctrl+Alt+Fuckthisshit)